Flatmates
by CrawledOutOfTheSea
Summary: Draco needed to be accepted, Hermione needed to start over. When she rents him a room will they be able to help each other? Can love bloom when they are each haunted by the past? M for later chapters.Post DH, not compliant w/ epilogue.
1. Of wine and reporters

Draco Malfoy, the notorious ex-death eater, whose own father had recently died in prison, had exited the London robes shop only to find reporters surrounding him. He groaned, and tried to push past them, realizing that he could never disapparate around this many people. Camera's flashed and the reporters voices filled his ears.

"Sir, what will you do know that your father has died in Azkaban?"

"How is your mother handling all of this?

When he didn't respond to those questions, the reporters switched, asking the questions they really wanted to know.

"Mr. Malfoy what will become of your fathers fortune since the Ministry took it when they sentenced him to life in Azkaban?

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Why do you think the Ministry were hesitant to give a job to a known death eater?

"What did you buy in the store?"

"Do you think it is fair that you got off with no time in Azkaban, while your father..."

"How is your relationship with the famous trio?"

That one did the trick, and Draco looked at the reporter incredulously. He hadn't spoken to them since his fathers trial...and although Harry had helped lessen the sentences for both himself and his mother, there was still a grudge. Harry had saved him in the battle as well, and that was shameful enough. Draco, however, had matured, he was 26 after all, and knew it was best to keep his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was another article about him. The Prophet had not been kind to his family, and especially him, since the war ended.

Shoving through the growing crowd of anxious wizards, he ducked into another shop, a herb shop (with an odd smell), then quickly ducked out the back door. Then, without pausing to see if the reporters had caught him, he disapparated. He ended up in what was now home, the equivalent to the servants quarters in Malfoy Manor. It was in the poorer part of Wizarding London, but for now it would have to do.

"Mother?" he called out, stepping inside the door, waving his wand to shut and lock the door behind him. No one answered, but he hadn't really needed his mother, it was just customary to announce he was home. It was something they had always done at the Manor, before the war, the house had been so large that they called out to each other all the time. Not that was necessary in this two bedroom flat. Setting his small bag on the couch, Draco sat down and put his feet up. This was only his first week back in the London, a new lowly employee at the Ministry, but the media had zeroed in on him. He had been away a few years, traveling with mother, and getting gold out of the foreign banks that Lucius had prepared long ago. Draco had been used to the media before, but that had been when they worshipped his family. Now, they only knew him as the almost murderer of Albus Dumbledore and the school enemy of the Golden Trio. It was bad enough that he was son to an infamous death eater, and he had his own mark as well, but it seemed karma had caught up with him.

After the Death Eater Trials, where his father had been sentenced, and his mother and himself had luckily been excused, his life had just continued to fall down around him. The famous Golden Trio were everywhere, and only too quickly the "Unofficial" bibliography's had started to appear. It seemed writers had nothing better to do then to write sappy stories about Potter and his pals at Howarts. But as with every story, fabricated or not, their needed to be a villain. And although Voldemort (yes, people were beginning to say his name) was the obvious choice, someone had set their sights on something more fun. If this was a story about Potter's life at school then surly he must have had a school enemy. And so Draco became the new puppet for the media. Never before had he received hate mail for getting Harry and them detention in first year (their had been an illegal dragon!), and it never seemed to end. People resented him for abusing their God Potter, and although he couldn't deny that most of it was true, that didn't mean people could change.

The door creaked open, and Draco looked up to see his mother enter their flat. She smiled tiredly at him, then flicked her wand, and bags of food came floating in after her. She sent then into the kitchen, and Draco heard them unpacking themselves. Narcissa Malfoy came towards him and sat in an armchair, her eyes closing.

"I see you finally bought new robes."

Draco looked at the bag beside him, "Yes, two. For work."

Narcissa nodded.

He watched his mother, and realized that being back in London had affected her. The lines on her face were much more apparent, and she spoke less now then she usually did.

"Did you have any trouble today?"

Draco nodded, aware that she wasn't looking. He didn't really need to answer that question, anyway, it was always the same answer.

"Want me to make dinner?" Draco asked, standing up, not waiting for an answer. Narcissa Malfoy nodded, and brushed her long blond hair out of her face, looking gratefully at her son.

He headed to the kitchen, and pulled out his wand. He knew the questioning from her would start soon. It happened every night. Silently he set the knives to chopping the vegetables, and began boiling water on the stove. The bag on the couch would have been too much temptation for his mother to pass up, he was a Malfoy after all, and they must look presentable, even while being tormented. He heard her making approval noises as she went over the second-hand robes. Draco sighed, then pointing his wand to the far counter, he turned up the radio. Loud.

With a wave he tossed the chopped vegetables into the steaming pot, and meanwhile dug a pre-made pie crust out of the cupboard. Then, with a few more flicks of the wand, he added steak into a frying pan, and set that on high. (The recipe usually calls for Dragon steaks -but that is very expensive) Though he couldn't imagine how mugggles managed without magic, he had come to like making his own meals. When the music was suddenly turned down, Draco became intensely focused on the browning meat. His mother sighed loudly from the doorway.

"Draco, what are you going to do? I suppose you didn't read the Prophet today. The media knows too much about you as it is, and now they are accusing you of hiding away! They are even accusing you of being afraid of "the truth" and have decided to hide behind your mother's robes."

Narcissa made a noise that by anyone else would have been considered a snort. But she watched her sons back anxiously. She knew that he had been hoping to move forward when he got the job at the Ministry, that the War could finally be forgotten, but it was not to be. And as much as she hated to say it, he was hiding away. And Malfoy's didn't hide.

"Did you hear what I said?"

Her son sighed, and with a sharp flick he began making the pie, " Yes, mother, I heard you."

"And?"

"No, I have not read today's article on me. I am surprised that they still find things to write about me. Can't they find anyone else to ridicule?"  
She ignored his outburst, "So, what are you going to do?"

Draco set down his wand tiredly, "I said I would find a place, and I will. Just give me time to look. We have only been here a week, for God's sake."

She smiled sadly, but when he turned around with the dinner his mother's face was the cool mask it always was.

"It smells good Draco." She sat next to him at the kitchen table, her wand bringing out plates, glasses and wine.

Draco rolled his eyes and poured himself a glass of wine.

Later that night Draco sat alone in the kitchen, twirling the empty wine bottle with his wand. Narcissa had gone to bed hours before. Tomorrow was Saturday, Draco's first day off from his new job. He wasn't looking forward to it. Free time was a waste of time, in his opinion. Draco knew that tomorrow, unless he thought of something to do, his mother would find some tedious task for him. She was not being vague in her attempts to drive him out of here. She was the one who had wanted to move back, upon hearing of Lucius's death. But Draco knew the truth, she was worried about him, her only son. She kept telling him to find his own life, to let his father's memory become just that: a memory. Draco didn't need to follow his fathers footsteps anymore. But then who should he follow? The wizarding world still hated him, and that it made impossible to move forward. People in the street glared as he passed, so who would possibly rent him a flat?

Stumbling sleepily to the couch, he laid down on it, but Draco's mind was still awake. The reporters voices, the glare he had gotten when the seamstress had seen his mark, his mothers incessant questions, it all spun around in his head. Sighing, Draco sat up, and reached for the book on the side table. But then he paused, beneath it was the strangest looking newspaper he had ever seen. It was certainly not the Prophet. Curious, Draco picked it up, and realized with a shock that it was a muggle paper. Why had his mother been reading a muggle newspaper? With a quick glance down the hall, he slowly opened it.

He couldn't figure it out at first. None of the pages changed with updated info, and none of the pictures moved. What muggles had to live with! Draco flipped further, fascinated by their politics and sports pages. They classified things oddly. Then he froze, and turned back a page. There, in smudged ink, was a listing of rent-able flats in London! Draco read them over slowly, his mind forming a plan, he could live in a muggle flat! There they would not judge him as long as he could pay, and that would be the last thing the wizarding media would expect. With a few spells, he could quite happily live in muggle London, and not be bothered.

He would need to get muggle money, and figure out how to contact them. The adds all listed rows of numbers, but Draco didn't know what they meant. He took out his wand and circled two adds that looked promising. One was in the center of London, so he figured that must be near Diagon Alley, and the other had much more sq. feet available. Going over the list again Draco paused at an add third from the top. It read - **Flatmate wanted! Located in the center of London, with access to all the city offers. Must like cats. Offers a large bedroom w/ shared bathroom, kitchen and common room. Must be able to pay rent every month. Walk-In's welcome.**

Draco read the add over again, confused. Unlike the others it listed no price or contact info. Nonetheless, Draco circled it. But as his wand touched the paper the add changed. Draco looked at in shock, a smile forming on his lips. A wizard! A wizard had posted an add in a muggle newspaper! Quickly he read the new version - **Flatmate wanted! Located in muggle London, only a few blocks from Diagon Alley. Must like cats. Offers a large bedroom w/shared bathroom, kitchen (both muggle and wizard appliances) and common room (with a fireplace). Must be able to pay rent each month - 18 galleons. Please arrive in muggle fashion (no robes and DO NOT APPARATE).**

Draco grinned, this was exactly what he needed! A wizard in muggle London, that was beyond perfect. Tapping his wand on the paper, the add changed again, flashing the address he was to arrive at. Draco set down the paper, folding it so he would be able to find the add in the morning. That was what he would do tomorrow, he would get the flat, live on his own, and finally start moving forward like his mother wanted.

With a smile Draco stood, stretched, then walked to his room for a full night's sleep.

----So, for my fifth chapter (it's almost done!) I realized I had several dates wrong. The final battle at Hogwarts, and therefore the end of the war, ended in May 1998. The characters (as we all know) were 17/18 at the time…My story was supposed to take place nearly 6/7 years after the war. So that is approximately 2004/2005. Anyway, that would make the characters at least 25 years old, but in this first chapter I say Draco is 21. So that had to be fixed.

Hope I didn't disappoint anyone thinking I had uploaded a new chapter. I love reviews and feel free to tell me suggestions on what you want to see happen w/ H+D. Thx for believing in me! Enjoy!


	2. Of cats and elevators

Disclaimer: I own nothing, this all belongs to JK Rowling.

Draco rolled over in his bed, and glanced at the clock. It was early, but he didn't feel like staying in bed any longer. Narcissa would certainly be up soon, and then Draco would break the happy news to her. He would soon be the new flatmate to a wizard in muggle London. The thought that this wizard wouldn't appreciate an ex-death eater as a flatmate had crossed his mind once or twice. But Draco was confident that a wizard living in muggle London wasn't someone who was "normal". And besides, it was an expensive flat, and not many wizards could afford 18 galleons a month. It was as if this had all been planned out for Draco's benefit. He smiled to himself, crawled out of bed, and headed to the bathroom.

After a quick shower Draco now stood before his closet, wondering what he had that could be considered muggle clothing. From the frozen photographs of the newspaper he had gotten a slight idea, and slowly got dressed. Draco wore a white button up shirt, with black dress pants and dress shoes. He felt silly wearing this, and if he added a tie Draco would have felt like a student again. With another glance in the mirror Draco combed his blond hair, then grabbing his wand, he headed out to the kitchen.

His mother was awake, drinking a cup of tea in her dressing gown, her silvery blond hair tied back in a tight bun. She nodded to her son and with her wand poured him a cup of tea. Draco sat down and tried to act normally, waiting for her to say something. He knew she had spotted the unusual outfit as soon as he had entered the kitchen. Waiting for the inevitable to happen, Draco sipped his tea, then set the frying pan to cooking eggs.

"You are going to put a robe on, aren't you?" Even after all these years in exile, Narcissa Malfoy had never lost the critical voice of a pure blood.

"No, mother. Not today."

She turned to look at him, her eyes just barley showing her surprise, and waited for an explanation.

"Today I am going to muggle London."

She daintily took a sip of tea, "Whatever for?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Come now, Mother. We both know you left the muggle newspaper for me to find."

Narcissa's face revealed nothing, she only took another sip of tea, "And?"

Draco sighed, "I am going to look at a couple of flats for rent. One, as it so happens, is a very good offer. I would share it with another wizard. I think I will start my search there."

His mother nodded calmly, and then her wand flicked out suddenly. The frying pan, which had begun to smoke, floated over to the table and served the eggs to both of their plates. Draco avoided her gaze, only slowly began eating.

"Very well. Will you go soon?"

"Yes."

She nodded, and Draco saw the small smile on his mother's lips. He chose to ignore it, let her think what she wanted. He finished eating, and stood up slowly. Then with a kiss to her cheek, he headed out the door of their flat.

The day was bright, and Draco walked down the streets at a brisk pace. He didn't want to admit how nervous he was. Outside of work he hadn't spoken to many other wizards, still cautious that he would be rejected. Many of his old Slytheryn friends had ended up with the same fate as the Malfoy's. Now most of the pure blood families were disgraced, all save for the holy Weasley's. Blaise was the only one who had managed to keep his head up, with a fairly high job at the Ministry. Draco had been meaning to have lunch with him. Pansy he hadn't seen in years.

Draco looked up suddenly, amazed that he had already ended up in Diagon Alley. It was packed with lively witches and wizards, but Draco quickly dodged through the crowd with ease. He hadn't played Quidditch in years, but he certainly hadn't lost the reflexes. Stepping into The Leaky Cauldron he considered having a quick drink for confidence. But he shook his head, Malfoy's feared nothing, and certainly not a wizard living in muggle London. With a deep breath he stepped out into the muggle streets.

Draco shielded his eyes in the sunlight, amazed at all the unusual sights and sounds of muggle London. He stuck his wand up his sleeve, then looked about for a sign. Then, after a few frustrating moments, Draco again pulled out his wand. He didn't dare ask a muggle for directions, and so he whispered a locating spell, repeating the address under his breath. His feet were pulled forward and Draco followed a silvery ribbon that floated out in front of him. Dodging through the muggle crowds, he watched the ribbon turn down a street, and Draco paused at the view before him. This was another place completely.

Even muggles, it seemed, had some sort of pure blood class. Who else could live in these majestic buildings that lined the street? Draco smiled, this explained the high price for rent. The wizard was living in the high end muggle neighborhood. Draco could handle that quite nicely. He began walking again, and the ribbon shot forward like a snake. He followed it to the third building down the street. Then the ribbon dissolved, and Draco looked up at his future home. But now what was he supposed to do? Confidently he walked forward, nodding slightly to the uniformed man who held the door open for him. He stepped into a brightly lit entrance way, one of marble and tile that was reminiscent of Malfoy manor. This place, however, had a gold and cream theme, and Draco smiled. Yes, this would do quite nicely.

"May I help you?" A man's voice made Draco turn around. Standing behind a desk stood another uniformed man, and he smiled politely to Draco.

"Yes," Draco went forward, wondering what to do now. With a last glance around the room, Draco looked for another clue from this mysterious wizard. Behind the man was a painting, and Draco grinned when it suddenly winked at him. The cupid in the picture smiled, then poked awake a cat that he had been holding. The cat blinked at him, as if saying "figure it out yourself".

"Cats." Draco said suddenly, and the Cupid nodded. The man at the desk, however, frowned.

"Sir?"

Draco tried again, "I like cats."

The effect was instant, and the man's eyes went blurry as a spell took over his mind.

'Of, course, Sir. She is expecting you. Just take the elevator to the ninth floor, room 24."

Draco nodded, then turned away, his mind racing. _She_ was expecting him? This was a witch? Well it was too late to back out now. The spell, Draco knew, having been activated by himself would have alerted the witch to his arrival. He had no choice but to go. Hesitantly he pushed the elevator button and its shiny gold doors opened slowly, and Draco stepped inside.

With an unnatural sound, the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened to the ninth floor. Draco stepped out carefully. Glancing down the hallways he turned left and began counting the doors upward. Near the end of the hallway was room 24, Draco paused before it, then knocked on the door.

The door opened slowly and he heard a woman's voice. He realized that she had said hello, but Draco could only stare in shock. Standing in the doorway was none other then Hermione Granger. Her mouth fell open as she finally looked at him.

"Malfoy?" She almost yelled.

"Granger?" He replied, equally astonished.

They stared at each other in shock.


	3. Of bedrooms and bathrobes

Neither of them moved a muscle. Still standing in the doorway, Hermione kept trying to speak, but she was at a loss for words. Even Draco was speechless. His first thought was to cast a memory charm on Granger then run out of the damn muggle apartment as fast as possible. But he knew he had to swallow his pride, and at least talk to her. He opened his mouth to speak, but then both their heads whipped around as the elevator sounded from down the hallway. They watched as a man walked towards them, his muggle eyes studying the two former enemies in the doorway.

"Ms. Granger." he nodded to Hermione as he walked past. She nodded in return, then with a groan grabbed Draco by the arm and pulled him into the apartment. He gasped at the sudden contact, and the manner of it, but Hermione ignored him. Releasing him and shutting the door, Draco took the opportunity to flatten his now wrinkled shirt. He looked up to her thin frame leaning against the closed door - was she really wearing only a bathrobe?- and decided to tell her off. How dare she touch him! But she beat him to it.

"What the hell, Malfoy."

He glared at her, "Excuse me. What did I do?"

"Well, ferret, not only did you wake me up, but you managed to make me look like a slut in front of a Mr. Fredrickson. He might be a complete snob, but he also happens to be the owner of a very prominent muggle newspaper.

Draco smirked, "How did I..." But again she cut him off.

"Speaking of muggle newspapers," Hermione grinned suddenly, "How did you come to answer my add for a flatmate? I suppose that is why your here, after all."

Draco glared at her, "I have my reasons."

Hermione snorted.

"What about you?" Draco shot back, "Aren't you supposed to be basking in the glow of the golden trio?" Hermione's grin faded, "Why are _you_ hiding in muggle London?"

"You haven't been reading the Prophet lately, have you?" Hermione said quietly, "Because if you had, you would have seen that I have been in it just as much as you have, Malfoy. And I have been under just as much scrutiny from those nosey reporters."

Draco paused, "Why?"

Hermione ignored the question. Tying the robe tighter around herself, she waved her hand nonchalantly;

"So, do you want to see the place?"

"What?"

"You came her for a reason, Malfoy." She pursed her lips together as if holding in a smirk.

Draco didn't answer. Did he still want to see the place? Part of him screamed yes, and the other part said no. As of last night this had been the answer to his needs, and he could "move forward" with his life, as his mother had so delicately put. But....Granger. He wasn't sure he could stomach the idea of living with one of the Golden Trio. Even if she too was in hiding. Living in muggle London was enough of a leap if you asked him, but sharing a flat with _her_ was asking a little too much.

"So, ferret, are you gonna decide or can I go back to bed?"

Draco glared at her, "Fine."

Hermione nodded her head sarcastically, "As you wish."

Draco rolled his eyes, but turned when she pointed behind him.

"This is the common room. The fireplace has Floo access, but I try not to use it all the time. They get suspicious if I never am seen leaving or entering." Draco nodded absently, trying to not drool; the place was amazing. Not that he would tell Granger that. The common room had dark stained wood floors, with large velvet furniture, and long red silk drapes. The fireplace was majestic, carved delicately out of white marble. The floors had an arrangement of thin oriental rugs, and their were several black bookcases lining the far wall between the two large windows. Their was a thin silver box on a table near the fireplace that Draco didn't recognize, but wreaked of muggle technology. All in all, Draco could see himself living here.

"Well, Granger," Draco tied to play it cool, "This seems a little fancy for your taste."

She rolled her eyes and led him through a large open doorway.

"This is the kitchen, and as mentioned it has both muggle and wizard capabilities. Not, "She glanced slyly at him, " That you would ever use them."

Draco straightened,and met her eye, "I cook now."

Hermione actually looked surprised. He ignored her and glanced around the large kitchen. In the center their was a large oak table, the floor was still the dark wood, but had an extremely large carpet covering the majority of it. The rest of the kitchen was tiled with multicolored tiles like a mural. It gave off a festive feel. Once again, some of the appliances confused Draco, but he was still impressed.

Leading him through another open doorway, Draco saw it was a short but wide hallway. It was painted in an olive green with gold trim, and the paintings on the walls varied, some waved at him as they passed, while others remained frozen. Hermione pointed out the first door as her office, the next as the bathroom, and at the end of the hall, on opposite sides, were the bedrooms. Hers was on the right, and she led him into the empty one. It was bare compared to the rest of the flat, but was a nice size that had possibility. It had a majestic king size bed, and a small dresser and mirror. The walls were a noble blue, as were the comforter and pillows.

"You can change the wall color if you like, and feel free to add a desk or chair or something. It does have a nice walk in closet, "Hermione pointed to the left, where Draco saw an oak door in the wall, " and that's basically it..."

Draco nodded, but decided to avoid answering the obvious question;

"Why?"

She glanced at him, "Why what?"

"Why are you renting this in the first place. It doesn't seem like you need help with the rent."

Hermione pursed her lips together, "I just don't like living by myself."

Draco nodded slowly. He wasn't sure how to respond to that. They were both quiet for a moment, and finally Hermione spoke;

"Um, I will leave you here to think for a moment. I will just be getting dressed."

She didn't wait for a reply, just hurried out of the room. He heard her door close, and Draco finally took a deep breath. Glancing around the magnificent room he knew he was in trouble.

This was better then anything he had expected. It was almost like living in the Manor again. And Draco had secretly agreed with her, he didn't want to live alone either, especially in muggle London. School and War had been over years ago, but could he live here, with Granger, permanently? What if Potter and Weasley were always coming over? And what if -God, forbid - the wizard press should find out? It would not look good for an ex-death eater to be living with one of the Golden Trio. He went over and sat on the bed, wondering how he would ever tell his mother.

Their was a light knock on the door and Hermione stepped back in the room, she wore a light blue linen skirt and a white button up shirt. Her hair was brushed, and she smiled cautiously at him.

"Look, I am sure this is not what you were hoping for. And honestly, I didn't expect anyone to ever answer the add..." She shook her head, "But I want you to know that the past is behind me, and as long as the press doesn't find out I'm sure we could work this out."

He glanced at her, "You think so?"

His voice came out more bitter then he had wanted.

"I believe that people change, and so that is why I am giving you this chance. I am offering you this -if you want it- despite...despite that scar on your arm."

Draco clenched his teeth, this was what always had annoyed him about Granger. She was so damn nice. Nobody was that nice.

"Move forward" his mothers voice echoed again in his head, "You don't need to follow your father anymore". Draco grimaced, his father would have murdered him on the spot for even considering this. But, he closed his eyes remembering, Lucius was dead now.

Opening his eyes Draco Malfoy looked up at Hermione. She had been staring out the window, and she smiled as he stood up from the bed.

"Yes," he said, and she glanced at him, "I will do it."


	4. Of tea and clipboards

Draco Malfoy sat in the kitchen, and watched as Hermione made tea. He was somehow more in shock then she was... what had he just agreed to do? Live with Granger?...Was it too late to back out?

"Sugar or lemon?" Hermione's voice interrupted Draco's racing thoughts. He nodded absently, then realized what she had asked. Looking up he kept his face calm, "Sugar."

She nodded, turning away to hide her smile. With her wand she floated over the tea pot, but carried over the two mugs of tea. She handed one to him, and he took it carefully, setting it before him. She sat across from him at the oak table, and blew lightly on her steaming mug. Draco avoided meeting her eye, his hand tapping anxiously on his leg.

She smiled, "Well, I guess we should discuss some stuff."

Draco nodded.

"Um, you are welcome to bring all of your stuff over today if you want. I might need to help you though, 'cause we have to bring the larger stuff in the muggle way."

He glanced at her finally, "Meaning what, Granger?"

Hermione bit her lip, "Meaning, that any large furniture and boxes will need to be carried up to the apartment. That is how muggles usually do it."

Draco shuddered, what muggles had to put up with. But he felt her eyes on him, and nodded.

"Also, I will need to sign you in as a permanent guest. You can be my cousin or something."

Draco glanced at her, and smirked. Cousin? Who would believe that? He took a sip of his tea, breathing in the lovely scent of English breakfast, and raised his eyebrows at her.

"Well, maybe you can be a long lost friend or something," Hermione waved her hand absently, "But we need it to be clear that we are not together and yet it is still normal for us to be living together. No doubt you are used to it, but these people can get rather nosey."

"Are you calling me a snob?"

Hermione grinned, "Are you denying it?"

Draco set down his mug and tried to look offended. Hermione snickered.

"Well, whenever you can I will need you to come with me to sign yourself in. Normally I would just confund the guy, but it is just easier to follow procedure."

Draco nodded, his mind still trying to process this information. It was official now. He was going to live with Hermione Granger.

"Why cats?" He glanced up at her suddenly.

"For the spell to work you mean?" Hermione traced her finger around her mugs rim, "I don't know. It just seemed fitting since the picture has a cat."  
"Don't you still have a cat?"  
She looked surprised, "You remember him? No, Crookshanks died years ago. I have been meaning to get another but..."  
"Well I don't mind." Draco took another sip of tea.  
"Do you have any questions?" She asked, pouring herself another mug of tea.  
Draco thought for a moment, "Will Potter and Weasel be coming over a lot? Because that could be an issue."  
Hermione smiled sadly, "Do you really think they still hate you? They might still act twelve, but they have matured. And I think you have as well."  
Draco avoided her eyes, "Well, will they?"  
This time Hermione avoided his gaze, "No, I don't expect so. And even if they did, they would ask permission first."  
Draco realized he was stepping into dangerous territory, but the question came out of him anyway, "I though you guys were still close?"

"Oh, we are." Hermione smiled, but Draco could tell it was fake. What had happened to the Golden Trio?  
"What about you?" She asked suddenly, and he glanced at her, "Your father...That is why you've come back, isn't it?"  
Draco sighed, and set down his empty mug of tea.  
"Never mind." Hermione shook her head.  
Draco pushed back his chair, "I have time now, why don't we sign me in?"  
Hermione nodded, and stood. She flicked her wand and the mugs flew gracefully into the sink.  
He followed her out of the kitchen and she paused before opening the door.  
"Like I said before it doesn't look good if we are never seen leaving or entering, but you can apparate inside the door. You can even apparate from inside the elevator if that's easier. That's what I do sometimes. I have burglary spells, of course, but I know it is easier for other wizards to apparate then pretend to be muggle."  
Hermione opened the door, and tucked her wand in her skirt pocket. Draco nodded silently, and put his wand away too. She locked the door behind her, and nodded to him.  
"You, "She glanced back as she walked down the hallway, "I am actually quite impressed with. You do look like a muggle. And you certainly look like you belong here."  
Hermione looked forward, and Draco watched the sway of her skirts. How was she so OK with this? She must be really lonely, he realized. But why?  
She paused at the elevator and pushed the button. Draco stood next to her, hand's in his pocket. The elevator door opened, and thankfully it was empty.  
"Oh, and it's fine if you bring women back, you know."  
He glanced down at her. He hadn't even thought of that. She smiled at him, fixing her hair in the mirrored walls of the elevator. Draco nodded again.  
"So, are you sure you don't have any other questions?"  
Draco met her eye in the elevator wall. He had plenty of questions, but none of them made any sense.  
"What is your cover?" The question came out suddenly, "For the muggles."  
Hermione nodded, "I am an heiress to an American publishing industry. They think I am starting a British division and that is why I am always working."  
Draco nodded, "What's your real job?"  
"At the Ministry?" She glanced at the closed elevator doors -they were still moving- before answering, "I work in the Magical Creatures Department, making negotiations, defending them in trials, rewriting laws...stuff like that."  
"Oh," Draco nodded. That wasn't a glamorous job, but then again, this was Granger.  
The elevator door opened and they stepped out into the Lobby. They passed by a couple waiting for the elevator, they were wrapped in magnificent fur coats, despite the warm weather. Draco automatically straightened his back and glanced at them coolly, he still was a pure blood after all. He saw Hermione roll her eyes as she led him to the front desk.  
"Hello, Tod." She said, flashing a bright smile. The man stared a bit too long at Hermione's chest, but only Draco seemed to notice.  
"This is my dear friend Draco, and he will be living with me. Isn't their a form that we need to fill out?"  
The pudgy man in uniform glanced between the smiling witch and the indifferent wizard. Tod nodded slowly and bent down behind the desk, coming back up with a clipboard.  
Draco took the form with a glance at Hermione, it was long and official looking. Reaching for a pen on the marble counter, Draco took it with him as Hermione led him over to a far bench.

"Ready?" She whispered. He glanced at her and she silently took her wand out and tapped the form. It stayed blank, but Draco knew to anyone else it would look full and detailed. She smiled slyly at him.

Draco rolled his eyes. Standing he walked over to the desk and handed the clipboard back to Tod. He glanced at the form surprised, but then his eyes glassed over and he nodded absently, reading nothing.  
"Alright, Mr. Malfoy, Sir. It all seems to be in order. When do you expect to be moving in?"

Draco exhaled, "Um, today?"

Tod nodded slowly, his eyes drifting past Draco. He turned and saw Hermione come forward smiling. Draco shot the man a dirty look.

"Alright then Sir. If you need any assistance moving in your things just ask me."

Draco nodded, then turned away, feeling Hermione's touch on his arm. She led him out into the sunlit street, and paused again.

"So," she looked around the busy street, "It's official now."

Draco nodded, feeling slightly sick at what he had just agreed to do.

"Um, I will be home all day so feel free to use the Floo. Only some of your stuff needs to be moved the muggle way."

Draco took a deep breath, "OK."

Hermione sighed then stepped back, heading towards the apartment, "If this is gonna work, Draco, you're gonna have to talk to me." She laughed and waved, stepping into the glass doors. Draco stood their, feeling strange. That was twice she had called him Draco.

With a sigh he turned down the street, and headed back to the real world. He decided to disapparte before the brick wall to Diagon Alley, the reporters, he knew, would be on the prowl. Now all he had to do was make up a story to tell mother. Perfect.


	5. Of headlines and school trunks

Draco stood before his mothers room, weighing his options. She wasn't home, but this felt wrong somehow. Shaking his head, he opened the door and stepped in. Her room was not at all how it had looked at the Manor, but maybe that was the point. Walking over to her dresser he tapped it with his wand, and surprisingly it opened. Narcissa had become more trusting, it seemed. Draco glanced through the drawers quickly, knowing she hadn't thrown them away. Finally, in the lower left hand drawer he found them, stacks of old Prophet's all mentioning him or the Malfoy name. He sighed, why would his mother have kept these? Sure, they came in handy now, but this was not how Draco wanted his mother to remember him. Not with these false accusations and ridiculous stories that the Prophet writers had loved to create. With a deep breath Draco took out a handful of them, then sat down in the desk's chair. Prophet articles would update themselves on new information, but you couldn't go back and look at old stories. That was why he needed these. He needed to understand what Hermione had meant this morning, how could the Prophet hate her? She was their savior.

Flipping through them Draco pulled out one from the middle, it was from over a year ago. He scanned the front page, but nothing on the trio was mentioned. But Dumbledore was...Draco studied the picture of Hogwarts school, his fist clenching at the memory. Slowly he read the article;

**It has been only a few years since the death of the Dark Lord, but while that day is celebrated with drinks and parties, another death is honored as it should be. Albus Percival Wolfric Brian Dumbledore was the beloved Headmaster of Hogwarts school, whose life was dedicated to enriching students minds. Now, however, we know another side to the brilliant wizard; his quest in defeating the Dark Lord. Our own Harry Potter, remembers his Headmaster fondly, giving him all the credit to his famous defeat of the Dark Lord in the year 1998. That is why for the past month of June people have been arriving at Hogwarts, not only to remember their own fond memories of the school, but to pay their respects to a great wizard. **

**Harry Potter arrived early Tuesday morning, calmly waving off the press, as he headed up to the newly rebuilt castle. The Chosen One was later joined by fellow hero, and his close friend, Ron Weasley, and they visited Dumbledore's grave together, later signing autographs for students at the Quidditch fields (Both Potter and Weasley are accomplished Quidditch players, and each own share's of several professional teams). A huge surprise, however, was the arrival of the third member of the famous trio. Hermione Granger, the ex-Mrs. Weasley, arrived later that day, managing to avoid the press with a few well aimed spells. She was seen visiting Dumbledore's grave with her old war buddies, but refused to pose for any pictures with them. She left quickly, ignoring all questions and apparated once out of bounds of the school. Her ex left not long after, apologizing to the crowd that he was needed in the Ministry.**

**When later asked about her sudden appearance, Harry Potter stated; "I was sure she would come. This school, and what Dumbledore did for it, meant a lot to her..." He refused to speak on her relationship with Ron, or say where she had been living for the past year... **Draco stopped reading, and set down the Prophet, his mind in shock. He knew Weasley and her had gotten together after the war, but marriage? And then divorce? What had happened to his new flatmate?

Draco, glanced at the doorway, but all was quiet, and so he dug deeper into his mothers drawer. Draco clenched his teeth together, rather impressed that she had articles ranging back from the Death Eater Trials of '98. He didn't read those. Instead Draco flipped through the papers, seeing pictures wave up at him, many grateful at having been taken out of the drawer. Finally he found it, a huge picture on the front page, announcing the **Wedding of War Heroes to take place at Turn of the Century**. Granger and Weasley both looked so young, as they posed before a crowd wearing their wedding clothes. They couldn't have been more then 20 at the time. Setting that one back in the drawer, Draco dug through the top of the pile. Pulling out one in random he glared at the frowning picture of himself. It was taken in India several years ago, when the press had finally caught up with him and mother. Draco turned the page back, and saw what he was searching for. It was a picture, and he watched as Hermione, followed by Ron, dodged through a crowd of reporters, heading into the Ministry of Magic. Both looked stressed and tired. The headline read **H and R make it official to the public - "It's over."**

Draco scanned the article, his eyes flicking back to the sad face of Granger as she dodged through a crowd of angry wizards and witches. She had been seen moving her stuff into a separate apartment only days earlier, she had been seen at a War memorial announcement without her wedding rings...the article went on and on. Draco stopped reading, amazed at what it was saying, they had turned on her. Just like that. The whole wizarding world had turned on her, because she had (said the article) requested the divorce.

After that the articles became simply brutal, the reporters following her every move, taking pictures at every chance. Draco didn't even glance at the articles, the headlines saying it all.

**Ex-Mrs. Weasley a "no show" for War memorial banquet**...**Hermione seen with two different men in one day**...**Hermione hexes a reporter for asking too many questions**...**Hermione seen entering apartment of eligible wizard**...**Ex-Mrs. Weasley arrives at Ministry Christmas party w/ another man**...**Hermione Granger, War hero and ex- Mrs. Weasley, disappears from public eye**...**Hermione Granger returns to London after a year of seclusion**...**Still silent on her personal life, War Hero Granger talks about her new job at the Ministry** - The last article Draco finally read over. It was dated only a few months before now, but it said nothing of interest. Though the reporter tried in vain, Granger was adamant on only answering questions on her new job. She was even silent about where she had been the past year, and where she was living now. Draco sighed and set the old Prophet on the desk. From his own experience with the Prophet he knew how good they were at fabricating stories, but still, he wondered how much was true. The Hermione Granger he had spoken to only a few hours ago had seemed, like a content successful woman. Whatever had happened between her and Weasel had been ugly, but the Prophet had made it seem like the end of the world. Draco stuffed the papers back in the drawer, at least now he wouldn't have to worry about Potter and Weasel coming over.

Draco leaned back in the chair and twirled his wand. He still had a chance to back out of this.

"Are you quite finished?" His mothers voice jolted him out of the chair, and Draco looked up sheepishly to her bedroom doorway. Narcissa Malfoy stood their smirking at her son, her own wand held casually at her side in manicured fingers.

"Why do you have those?" Draco pointed to the drawer, hoping to distract his mother from the real reason he had been snooping around. He calmed his face, trying to look annoyed, and his mother frowned in response.

"I don't know. It just seemed appropriate to keep them."

"Appropriate? For what? Those are certainly not memories I need to remember."

His mother met his eye, "Your father always kept the papers we were mentioned in."

Draco laughed harshly, "Oh, yes, but that was when the Prophet still bowed down to us. Father is the reason we are here now!"

His mother didn't answer, only clenched her wand hand angrily. They stared at each other silently, for Malfoy's did not argue. Finally Narcissa sighed, and looked away;

"Did you find a place?"

Draco nodded, and stepped away from the desk. Narcissa smiled, and just like that the non argument was over. With a wave of her long hair his mother left the doorway, and he followed her into the small common room. They sat in separate chairs, and Draco's mind raced over what to say.

"Well," He drawled, "I had luck with the first place I went to actually..."

His mother interrupted, "The wizard in muggle London?"

Draco rolled his eyes and nodded, "Yes, but it was much better accommodations then I would have hoped for..."

'So you are actually going to do it? Live with muggles?"

"I'm not living _with_ muggles, I am living next to them. And, they are upper-class muggles, in a very nice apartment, Draco sighed, "Don't tell me, you disapprove?"

Narcissa studied her son for a moment, "Well, I never thought you would really go for it."

"You left the paper for me to find!" Draco stared aghast at his mother. This was unbelievable!

I know, but I was getting desperate," She glanced up at him from her manicured nails, "But, if you think this will work, then I give you my blessing. "

Draco sat back in the couch, rolling his eyes. His mother could be utterly ridiculous sometimes.

"Well, when do you move in?"

"Today."

Narcissa's eyebrow's raised in surprise, but she was quiet about it.

"When do I get to come see the place?"

Draco avoided his mothers eyes, "Uh, soon. I'll need to ask my...flatmate, though."

She nodded, not noticing Draco's awkwardness, "And this is someone you knew from school?"

"Yes..." Draco tried to not look surprised at his mothers perfect guess.

"How nice."

Draco nodded absently, then stood, "Think I'll go pack now."

His mother nodded, and calmly opened up a magazine from the side table. Draco headed to his room, and stared at it, wondering what to take. Granger already had a bed and dresser, but he would need his desk and chair. Those would be the things to be taken by the muggle way, he decided. Then with a flick of his wand, his closet flew open and began folding its contents into piles on his bed. Draco floated over his old school trunk and another trunk, then began waving stuff into them. Clothes and such went in the nicer trunk. His old broom, papers, books and other things fell into his slytheryn painted trunk. Pointing his wand out the door Draco heard the bathroom door creak open as his things floated out. They also went into the school trunk. And just like that Draco was finished.

Stepping out of his room, he made a quick circle through the kitchen and common room, but nothing was left out. His mother only glanced at him while he went around the flat. Feeling foolish for some reason, Draco went back to his room. With a sigh he knew he couldn't put it off much longer. So he closed his eyes and disapparated.


	6. Of dust mops and floo powder

Draco opened his eyes and found himself standing in the common room of Gran--their new apartment. He straightened and looked around for his new flatmate, but she wasn't there. Taking a cautious step forward he called out her name, and her voice rang down from the hallway. He headed that way, glancing around at his new home. This place was nicer then anything he had seen in a long time.

She was in his room, a mop and duster floating about cleaning every bare inch while Granger supervised from the closet doorway. She smiled at him as he entered, and Draco did his best to smile back.

"Come on in." She waved him over to the closet, "I was just getting rid of my stuff so you can have room. But it is basically all ready for you."

Draco nodded, and bent his neck to look at the nicely sized walk-in closet. Their were a few boxes the Hermione had stacked in the corner, and he smiled to himself; one of the boxes read "school textbooks, assignments and notes"...So she still was a nerd after all.

"So, did you need anything?" She smiled at him, and Draco swallowed.

"Yes, I was wondering what exactly to bring...the muggle way."

"Oh," Hermione nodded in understanding, "What do you have?"

Draco stepped aside letting her exit the closet, the boxes floating out behind her. She flicked her wand and they obediently went out the door. She flicked her wand again and the mop and duster fell limply to the floor.

"Not much," Draco avoided her warm gaze, "Two trunks, a desk, chair, and some boxes."

"Okay." She looked around the room, and he followed her gaze, "Well, one of the trunks we can Floo over. And some of the boxes. Otherwise, I think we should let them see you bring stuff in," She smiled slyly, "people here are very nosey, and will definitely be judging you on what you bring."

Draco nodded, and he heard Hermione sigh.

"Draco," he looked at her slowly, "I do hope that we will be able to speak to each other. I realize friends may be a bit too much to ask, but we will be living together. I wanted a flatmate so I wouldn't feel so alone, but with you only nodding and shaking your head, nothing will have changed."

"Sorry." Draco said, meeting her eye.

She smiled, "Well, that's a start. Never thought I would here a Malfoy apologize for anything."

He scowled at her, until he realized she was teasing. She only laughed at his no-doubt anxious expression.

"Well, lets begin, shall we?" She floated out of the room, and Draco caught a sniff of her perfume, it was light and flowery. He stood rooted to the floor, Granger wore perfume? It was bad enough that she had a nice figure and wore clothes that didn't hide it, but something as girly as perfume Draco never would have thought possible. And their was the issue that she was being so damn nice to him.

The last time he had spoken to a witch, or even someone who didn't despise him for his dark past, had been a very long time. His mother had been the only female company that he had been around for a couple years. Draco hadn't avoided relationships, but they had avoided him. Flings and one night stands were fulfilling only up until they saw the dark mark on his arm. Then, in most cases, they swore and ran away. Finding someone who could accept him was only possible with the compensation of money.

This was completely new to him. Not that Draco would admit it. And despite his mantra that he had changed (he was living side by side w/ muggles!) their was that uneasiness of sharing so close a space with a girl he had once taunted. Sure, she and her trio had saved him in the war, but the bitterness was still there. Didn't she see that? And didn't she feel at all the same towards him? Draco couldn't exactly blame her if she did. But to all appearances she seemed totally alright, though Draco suspected differently. He had seen her true colors that morning...she had called him ferret, had mocked him, and they had been two feuding teenagers all over again. So what had changed since then?  
"Draco, are you coming?" Hermione poked her head around the doorway, and Draco avoided her gaze. He nodded, not bothering to come up with an excuse, and followed her out of his room. If their was one thing he was good at it was reading people. Granger would be too easy to figure out.

He followed her into the common room and she walked to the fireplace.

"If you want we can bring over one of your trunks now. Floo will work if you just push it over to me." She glanced at the large marble fireplace, "Then we can move the rest of your stuff the muggle way."

Draco nodded, and Hermione took a small garden pot from the mantle and held it out to him. He took a small pinch and threw it into the dry fireplace, immediately green flames burst out of nowhere, and he glanced at Hermione. She smiled encouragingly and he yelled out his address, and stepped through the flames.

His mother, thankfully, was not in the common room. He called out her name, but when no one answer he shook his head. Malfoy's did not say goodbye, and no doubt she had found an excuse to go shopping. Draco took out his wand and pointed down the hallway.

"Accio school trunk!" He heard his door bang open and the large trunk flew at him. With a freezing spell he caught it before it ran him over, then set it on the carpet before the green lit fireplace. Bending down he stuck his head in the flame,

"You ready?" He looked up to see Hermione smile down at him, and she nodded. He pulled his head back through, but suddenly caught sight of her bare legs as her skirt rustled around as she moved. From this view he had seen quite a bit. Hastily Draco pulled back into his apartment. He stared at the fireplace, and swallowed dryly, new thoughts suddenly entering his head.

Nonetheless Draco knew she was waiting on the other side, so with a flick of his wand he directed his trunk into the fireplace. He called out her address, and with a shove pushed it through the green flames. It was much heavier then he had thought, and losing his balance Draco unwillingly followed after it, feeling the whooshing sensation of rushing through the chimney. Then with a sudden jerk Draco slammed against his trunk, and he heard Hermione exhale on the other side. His wand fell to the floor as he tried to get his bearings, pushing himself away from the school trunk. She made a huffing sound and slowly Draco stood up on her oriental carpet, now smothered in ash. Draco wiped off his pants, and looked up to see Hermione leaning on his school trunk, smirking at him.

"That was graceful."

He glared at her," Well, it worked."

She smiled, "Yes, and I don't think I will ever forget the sight of you tumbling out of the fireplace and slamming into your own school trunk."

He rolled his eyes, rubbing his sore shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Her sudden concern unnerved him.  
"I'm fine."  
She rolled her eyes," Well then, I will clean this up while you take the trunk to your room."  
Draco glanced down at the dirty carpet," Sorry."  
She just waved her hand in response. Rubbing his shoulder again -that had really hurt- he picked up his wand from the floor.  
"Locomotor trunk" Draco waved his wand and the trunk floated before him, and he walked it through the common room. Once in his room he set it down, not caring where it went for now. He would unpack later.  
Hermione was in the kitchen, washing her hands, and he noticed a bit of ash still on her skirt. He swallowed, but said nothing.  
Sher smiled again at him and wiped her hands on a towel, "OK, lets go."

--Wow. Didn't think it would take 6 chapters for Draco to move in! lol. Well, now the story can really begin, and keep a look out because I will be using lots of the ideas ppl have suggested. Expect to see more sexual tension, awkward conversations, and (maybe) some lemon!....lol. Anyways, I realize I am a hypocrite cause I rarely review- but I beg all of you to review!! It fuels me to write more! Nonetheless, keep reading and enjoy!


	7. Of cameras and cubicles

------ So this chapter is very long, mainly because I had no idea what to do with it. I have all these scenes planned out, but they needed some filler chapters first. So that's really what this is - a filler. Hope you like it anyway.

With a bit of brilliant spell work and quick thinking (she wasn't the brightest witch of her year for nothing) Hermione managed to smoothly convince the muggles that Draco had moved in. Then he had unpacked and eaten a light dinner with his flatmate where she did all the talking. Shockingly enough she was one who liked things in order, and so had given him her normal daily schedule so he could adjust himself to living with her. To her annoyance he had just nodded and (sometimes) rolled his eyes to her many ideas. Though Draco wasn't about to admit it, she was an easygoing person, and beside her constant chatter she wasn't half bad. Nonetheless, he still watched her from the corner of his eye. The Hermione that was his flatmate was a nervous twittery person, not at all the girl from school or who had first met him in the doorway. He was going to discover what had changed her. And he was betting that it had been Weasley. But as of yet, he hadn't spoken to her about her past. Nor she about his.

Then somehow a week had passed, and then another. They were officially flatmates now and somehow a routine had started between them. No big fights had broken out, and so far, neither the muggle or wizard reporters had discovered them. All seemed to be going well.

Draco rolled over in bed and swore, his clock said it was half past eight. He should have been leaving by now! He jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, grateful that it was open. It was unlike Hermione not to wake him before he left, because she already knew of his habit of sleeping past his alarm. After a quick shower and shave, Draco ran back to his room in just a towel. Throwing the first pair of clean robes on, he only slowed to brush his hair in the mirror. He wondered if Granger had left any coffee for him, then ran out of his room.

The kitchen was dark, with no sign that Granger had eaten. He paused and turned back towards the hallway. Her doorway was shut, but it was always shut. Draco considered his options then walked down to her door. After a quiet knock, with no response, Draco slowly opened her door.

The room was pitch black, but Draco was still side tracked at Hermione's bedroom. It didn't seem like her at all, or at least it didn't seem like the rest of the apartment. He glanced over at the bed, and slowly stepped towards its cast iron frame. He spotted movement under the many blankets. Granger was still asleep!

"Granger." He whispered, standing over her hidden form. She didn't respond and Draco rolled his eyes, he wanted to leave, but he owed her from the many times she had saved his ass.

"Granger!" He said a bit louder, daring to poke the covers where her shoulder should have been. She moaned slightly and rolled over. Draco stared at her. He never imagined Hermione Granger to make those noises. Her head was now free from the many blankets and Draco couldn't help but watch her face. She looked peaceful, though the dark circles under her eyes suggested otherwise. He really needed to find out what had changed her so drastically.

"Come on!" he whispered again, glancing at her clock in annoyance, "Hermione!"

That seemed to do the trick and her eyes slowly fluttered open. Draco barely had time to rearrange his face to look annoyed. She blinked up at him sleepily.

"Granger, you're late."

Her eyes glanced around the room as if she wasn't sure where she was, then she met Draco's gaze again. He stared back, seeing something completely different in her gaze. Then suddenly she sat up, eyes fully awake.

"Oh My Gosh!"

Draco stepped back as Hermione flew out of bed. She wore only a long T-shirt, but only he seemed to be aware of the fact.

"Shit!" She grabbed clothes from her closet and floor, glancing back at Draco hurriedly, "What time is it?"

Draco hurriedly looked at her clock. Crap it was almost Nine. He told her so, then smiled when she swore again.

"Well, I'm gonna go." Draco said, though she didn't seem to notice. He stepped back out of her doorway, and she ran past him into the bathroom.

"Thanks, Draco. Have a good day." She smiled at him then slammed the door shut. He heard the shower turn on, and slowly maneuvered himself to the common room. His mind felt frozen. Then Draco turned on the spot and disapparated.

Work went slowly, but then again their wasn't much exciting to do in the Office of Ministry Information and Public service. He was forced into a cubicle everyday, made to fill out form after form after form. His job was half mail-clerk, half "help desk" and half secretary. It paid well, but that was just compensation for a terribly mundane job. Even Granger's job sounded more exciting.

"You were late today." The nasally voice of the fat, balding (yet somehow single) wizard in the next cubicle interrupted Draco's thought process. He had been staring at a document blankly for who knows how long. Yet Draco didn't look up, hoping Drex would get the point. He didn't.

"Why?"

"Why what?" Draco sighed loudly, setting down the empty form.

"Why were you late?"

Draco glanced at the thin wall separating them, "I slept in. And so did my flatmate."

"Oh..."

Draco smirked, "What did you think it was?"

"Nothing. I just thought that, you know...you would have been gettin' some over the weekend. If you know what I mean."

"Drex I always know what you mean," Draco sighed, " But sadly, no. I simply slept in."

The wizard was quiet for a moment, no doubt disappointed at Draco's lack of an answer. But Drex always managed to make Draco feel better. Sure, Draco hadn't gotten laid, or even gotten close to a girl in a couple weeks...but Drex seemed to believe they were mythical creatures. He had never been close or lucky with one, as far as Draco could tell.

"Does your flatmate work in the Ministry?"

Draco focused on the same form, suddenly finding it all too interesting, "Yes."

"Where?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "I'm not telling you so you can go creep on her. You already have enough restraining orders in this place."

But Drex seemed to only have heard one thing, "Her?"

Draco paused, "Yes."

He heard Drex shift in his chair, "Really?"

"You are going to stay away from her." Draco sounded sterner then he meant.

"She married?"

Draco sighed, "No."

"_You_ shaggin' her?"

Draco's head shot up, staring at the wall separating them. Him shagging Granger? What a thought! Besides this morning and the one time he almost walked in on her showering, he hadn't seen enough of Granger to have that even be possible. Most of the time he managed to forget she was female.

"Are you?" Drex sounded far too happy for his own good.

"She's my flatmate, Drex."

"So off limits, then?"

Draco honestly didn't know how to answer that. But he could practically smell the satisfied smile on Drex's face.

"She's seeing someone." He lied.

Drex was silent for a moment, then, "Who?"

Draco tapped his quill, searching for an answer, "I dunno, some muggle bloke."

"A muggle!" Drex said incredulously. Draco nearly laughed at the sudden thought that any witch would date a muggle over Drex.

"Yeah, young and rich."

Draco could just imagine Drex fuming over his bad luck. He glanced at his wrist watch and saw that it was time for lunch. Thank God. Draco had completely forgotten about breakfast thanks to Granger. He stood and headed out of the office, only to hear the flat footed prowl that was Drex.

Draco hurried out of the office into the main entry of the Ministry, trying to hide in the crowd of lunch destined workers. Of course it had to be Drex who was the only one who seemed to like his company. Draco rolled his eyes, then went to the designated apparation area. By now he was used to the many suspicious glances of his fellow wizards, but it still infuriated him when people who once feared him now openly smirked. For example, Colin Creevy, the bratty Gryfindor who had paraded after Potter, now winked at him suspiciously. Creevy motioned to the camera about his neck, cocking his head to the side. Draco turned away, glad Colin was on the opposite end of the crowd. He and the damn Prophet could go to hell.

That night Draco slowly walked into the lobby, absently nodding to Tod and entering the elevator. It was empty and Draco pushed the nine button. Then he once again turned on the spot and apparated into the common room. Hermione was in the kitchen and she called out to him, he could only nod tiredly. Hanging up his robe on a wall hook next to hers, he slowly entered the kitchen. She was cooking, using those confusing muggle appliances again. Draco still didn't understand why she bothered. But as long as he didn't have to cook...

"You got a letter." Hermione motioned to the table, and Draco sat down his eyes blurring at the idea of having to read more shit. He glanced at it, and recognized the curvy writing; it was from mother. He didn't want to open it just then.

"I need a drink," Draco said suddenly, standing again, "You want one?"

Hermione stood before the stove, and he saw her nod absently. Monday's were not her cup of tea either.

He went to the back cupboard, and it opened to an obscenely large space, thanks to more nifty spell work by Granger. He grabbed a bottle of red and turned around, using his wand he set two wine glasses on the table followed by the cork screw. Draco sat again, and after a moment's hesitation flicked his wand at the corkscrew. It obediently jumped up and uncorked the wine. Draco poured the glasses half full, and pushed one in the direction of Granger.

"Here." She turned and Draco noticed the dark circles under her eyes. The same from this morning. She took it gratefully, raising it in a silent toast to him, then turned back to the stove. What ever she was making smelled delicious.

"Thanks again for waking me this morning," Granger still had her back to him, "I can't believe I did that. It is so unlike me."

Draco kept sipping his wine, watching it swirl around the glass with a hypnotic fascination.

"What are you saying Granger? That I am infecting you with bad habits?"

"Well until you came along I didn't drink nearly as much."

He smirked into his glass, "You need to get out more."

She didn't reply, just set down her wine glass, it was already almost empty. Granger was surprisingly good at holding her alcohol.

"That's where I was last night." Her voice was quiet, and Draco paused in his attempt to stand and refill her glass. He took the wine bottle, then decided to play dumb.

"You were getting drunk?"

"No, I was out. And...and it didn't go as I planned."

Draco came up behind her, and saw her take a slow breath. He had figured that was why she had dark circles under her eyes. It even explained why she had overslept.

"You saw him, didn't you?"

Hermione didn't answer, just brushed some hair out of her eyes. Draco set the bottle next to her glass.

"You saw Weasley."

She turned suddenly, her eyes furious. But she stepped back when she realized Draco was so close to her.

"Careful!" Draco reached out and pulled her away from the boiling pot of water. She fell into his chest, her hands reaching out and pressing against him. Only the boiling pot was heard in the kitchen as Hermione blinked back tears. Draco said nothing, but noticed that from this angle he could see down her blouse. Hermione looked up at him, and he knew he had hit a sensitive spot with Weasley. She pulled away from him, and he let his hands fall to his side. Slowly Draco turned and filled her wine glass, handing it to her wordlessly. She nodded, her wand now finishing up the cooking. Then she sat at the table, but kept her eyes on the stove.

"You know?"

Draco sat opposite her, pouring himself another glass. He nodded slowly. It bothered him that he had liked Granger's hands on his chest.

Her lips formed a small smile, "So you finally read the Prophet?"

He scowled at her, and she sighed.

Draco took a large sip of wine, "Did he see you?"

Her eyes went dark, and her hand tightened around the wine glass.

"No," She glanced at Draco finally, "But the reporters did."


	8. Of mothers and telephones

"Granger! How do you turn this damn thing off!"

Draco stood in front of the "television" pointing his wand at it furiously. Only a silencing charm had worked on its incessant noise, but still the thing refused to turn black. This was not what he wanted to be doing when he came home from work with a splitting headache, but she had left the thing on at full blast. Hermione's many attempts to get him to watch the strange box had not gone well, Draco hadn't understood any of the humor, or why muggles used the television as entertainment.

Finally after another yell, Granger appeared out from the hallway. She glared at him, and tied her bathrobe tighter around her waist.

"Draco, you called?"

He rolled his eyes, "Fix it." He pointed to the mute TV screen. She smirked at him, then simply picked up a thing on the table and turned off the muggle contraption.

"Here." She held up the small box thing, "This is the remote, remember? It controls the television. It's like a wand, in a way."

Draco glared at her.

"If you need to turn it off, just press the red button," She pointed to the red button on the "remote", "And please, stop casting spells on the muggle appliances. It's not good for them."

He didn't answer, just strode off into the kitchen. He pulled out sandwich makings from the fridge, then sat down. She sighed and went back to finish getting dressed.

"Oh, Draco?" She paused in the hallway door, "Did you write to your mother yet?"

Draco twirled the knife in his hands, "No, I didn't. And how did you know that letter was from her?"

"Her handwriting. It's a lot like yours, actually."

Draco turned in his chair, surprised, but she was already down the hall. What did she mean he had similar handwriting as his mother? He rolled his eyes, and turned back to his cold sandwich. He had read the letter last night. It was nothing more then he had expected.

**Dearest Draco,**

**I do hope you are well suited in your new apartment, since I have heard nothing from you recently. You did promise to write to me, and I still wish to see this wizard's flat in muggle London. I do hope they are not giving you too much trouble. **(Draco wasn't sure if she meant the muggles or his "roommate") **Although you still despise it, The Prophet has begun to recede in its attack on you and your father. Dear Crabbe Sr. just passed away, and the Prophet has been mercilessly attacking his family. **(Draco rolled his eyes, his mother could be unbelievable sometimes. She probably still thought Vincent Crabbe had died innocently.) **However, their was a small article pertaining to the families of the deceased. They mentioned us because of the debate on whether or not they will give us our money back. It really is quite horrendous that they are so concerned with giving us back what is rightfully ours. Whatever you're father may have done **(Again Draco rolled his eyes) **he earned that money fairly. If anything, you deserve your inheritance. Malfoy Manor is rightfully yours now, Draco. **

**I trust your job had been getting easier, and that you have been getting out more. You need to know that you are still a young man and you deserve to have some fun. Please do not let some sleazy reporters keep you from enjoying your life. It is your duty to carry on the Malfoy name after all.** (At this point Draco needed another bottle of wine just to help finish reading) **Nonetheless, I am glad to see that you have managed to stay out of the ****publics**** eye. But someday, Draco, you will once again be at your rightful place above all other wizards. This Ministry job is just a stepping stone to your true potential. **

**I am doing quite well on my own, and will keep you updated on any news about your inheritance. Please try and write back. Otherwise I will be forced to come to muggle London and find you. **

**Sincerely, Mother**

Draco hadn't felt like writing back. Honestly, what was he supposed to say? She was still trying to run his life. And really, "carry on the Malfoy name"? His mother really had no idea what she wanted for her son. This nagging was her version of caring, whereas Hermione's mum called nearly everyday. It was quite annoying, especially since Draco barely knew how to use a "telefone". That was another muggle contraption that he despised. It made the worst possible noise and their was no way of knowing just who was on the other end. Draco had made that mistake only a few days back. He had managed to answer the phone only to realize that he was talking to Hermione's mum. Even Hermione had avoided answering when she called.

"Hello?" Her mother had asked into the phone again. Draco had gingerly picked up the telephone, and held it near his face. (Really he had only answered it to stop the awful ringing) He had seen Granger do this plenty of times, but it wasn't as easy as it looked.

"Yes?" Draco had answered finally.

The voice on the other line had sounded confused, "Who is this? Have I dialed the wrong number?"

Draco didn't know how to reply. He certainly wasn't going to tell this muggle who he was. And how was he to know if she had dialed the wrong number?

"Um..."

"Look, is Hermione there? This must be her number. I am quite positive this is her number."

Draco glanced at the phone, this muggle was rather annoying. And bossy. But she knew Granger.

'Um," Draco answered slowly.

""Um" is not the answer I need, son."

Draco rolled his eyes. Who was this muggle?

"Hermione's not here right now."

"Oh?" Said the muggle, her voice suspicious, "Then why are you there answering her phone?"

Draco sighed, "I live here."

"WHAT? Since when? Hermione hasn't mentioned a thing to me! How long have you been living there? Where is Hermione now? Who are you?"

Draco had to hold the phone back from his face because of the sudden yelp from the other line. Obviously Hermione hadn't told this muggle because she hadn't been able to get a word in.

"I am Draco." He finally gave in, "I have lived here for almost two weeks now."

The exhale on the other end was rather hilarious.

"And why have I not been informed of this?"

"Uh, I don't know. Ask Granger. Who are you anyway?" Draco was sounding snappier then he meant. But honestly, it was early in the morning on SATURDAY.

Their was a humpf, "I am Hermione's mother."

Oh. Damn. Draco knew he was in trouble now. But by the mum on the other line or by Granger, he wasn't sure.

"Who are _you_ again?"

"Uh, I'm Draco."

"And you are living with my daughter?"

Draco glanced at the phone questioningly, "Sure."

"You are sleeping with her?" Draco's mouth fell to the floor in shock. Why was everyone thinking that? And why did her mother sound almost happy about it?

"No, No!" He nearly yelled into the phone, "We're roommate's that's all."

Their was a pause as Hermione's mum considered his answer. Draco collapsed into the couch, this was exhausting, talking on the phone.

"You are just roommates." She repeated finally.

Draco swallowed, "Yes."

"Then you are a wizard, I presume?"

"...Yes."

"Tell me Draco, are you single?"


	9. Of models and dressing rooms

-So sorry for the wait! My laptop got a virus and crashed, so that really put a damper on my writing this week. Also I wasn't sure what to do with this chapter- but I think it turned out well. Its really long, but I don't think anyone will mind. Just considerate my apology for being so slow! lol. Will def try to update soon. Expect to see Harry in the next chapter!

"Draco" Hermione glanced accusingly at him, "This is despicable."

He looked into his closet where they both stood. He didn't want to admit it, but she was right, he only had four robes, a few black slacks, some button up shirts, and three pairs of shoes. His walk in closet looked bare. It was Thursday afternoon, and Draco had come home from work to find Hermione Granger in his closet.

"Come on," She said leaving his room, " Lets go."

Draco stared at her, "Go? Where?"

"Shopping." She glanced back at him, "You are in desperate need of some new clothes." "Granger." She paused in his doorway, and looked back at him, " You know we can't do that."

She looked questioningly at him.

"You know we can't be seen in public together. Their is a reason, why we are both living here - away from the reporters."

Hermione surprised him by smiling, "I know that, silly. We are going to buy you clothes in muggle London."

Draco glanced at her surprised but she only floated down the hall. He shook his head and followed after her. They headed out of their flat, and walked towards the elevator together. Hermione smiled at the neighbors who passed, greeting them all be name. Draco hadn't bothered, just giving them a small nod. One man always seemed to light up as soon as he saw Hermione, and would always try and join her in the elevator. Draco rolled his eyes every time, not only was Hermione oblivious to this mans intent, but it meant they could not apparate inside the elevator. Today, however, the elevator was empty and Draco followed Hermione in.

"Why were you in my closet?"

The question slipped out of him before he could stop himself. Hermione glanced sheepishly at him, their eyes meeting for a second in the mirrored elevator doors.

"Well, I was doing my laundry and realized that in all this time I had never asked how you were doing with your laundry. So I went to investigate. And Draco, just because you use a cleaning spell on them, does not make them completely clean. You do actually need to wash them, you know."

Draco rolled his eyes, but didn't respond.

"Do you know how to do laundry?" Her voice was kind, almost too kind.

Draco avoided her gaze. She took that as a yes.

"Well, then, that is easy enough to fix. I have a muggle washer and dryer, and I don't mind doing your laundry. But I will show you how to work it if you like." Draco glanced at her and nodded. he didn't like admitting that he couldn't do something as simple as wash clothes. Even if it was beneath him.

He decided to change the subject.

"Where are you taking me shopping? And how am I paying for this?" Hermione smiled and nodded, aware that he was embarrassed.

She was just as good as reading him nowadays, "Well, I know some nice places around London, places that will impress even your own pure blood standards."

He would have to see about that.

"And payment, won't be a problem. I took last months rent and transferred the galleons to muggle money. We should have enough."

"Then how did we pay last months rent?"

She smiled secretly at him, "Draco I didn't need a roommate to help may rent. I am perfectly capable of paying it myself."

"Granger, a deals a deal." He glanced at the elevator buttons, "I don't want to shirk out of paying my share."

The elevator door opened, and Hermione floated out, smiling at him. "Alright," she raised her eyebrows, "Pay me back if you wish."

He followed her out the doors, "I will." he said stubbornly. Hermione just laughed.

They entered the sunny streets of London and Hermione led him down the sidewalk. He didn't like riding in the muggle "cabs", which Hermione found hilarious, but had quickly understood. And so now, without asking, she knew to just start walking when she was with him.

"Where to first?" Hermione mumbled to herself, glancing around the street corner. Draco just stood sullenly beside her. Muggle London was still very confusing. They crossed the street, and Hermione took his hand and led him easily through the crowd. Draco stared in shock at his flatmate, at how casually she had just grabbed his hand. His immediate reaction was too pull free, but he couldn't. How long had it been since he had held hands with a woman? Draco was suddenly glad that Hermione couldn't see his face. Her hands were soft and warm.

Hermione didn't release his hand at the other side, as he expected. She just pulled him along, until they stood in front of a very expensive looking store. Draco didn't recognize the name, but then again, he was still distracted that Hermione was still touching him. Didn't she realize that was the very arm that had the dark mark?

"Here we are." She smiled and pulled him into the shop. Their was loud music and workers who looked more like models. The store was huge, with tons of male and female outfits displayed all over the place. Oh yes, this would do quite nicely.

"May I help you?" A blond woman came up to them, and Hermione dropped her hand from Draco's.

"Yes," She smiled, "He, " She glanced back at Draco, "needs some new suits."

The model looked him up and down with a look Narcissa would have been proud of. She nodded, and led them deeper into the store. Draco swallowed as he caught sight of her swaying hips. This was a woman he could handle.

"What size is he?" The model questioned, pausing at a rack of dress pants. "Um, I'm not sure." Hermione answered, glancing at him. He could of sworn he caught her looking at his lower half. First the hand holding and now this? Draco sighed, Granger was confusing the hell out of him.

The model glanced at him again, "Alright. Then we will just have to see."

Draco kept on his coolest face, holding her gaze, " Follow me."

They followed her through a maze of racks, and she silently pulled out shirts, slacks, and jackets. Only once and a while would she pause and hold them up to Draco. He either nodded or shook his head, muggle clothes were foreign to him still. It was Hermione who saved him, adding her own ideas, suggesting colors, things like that. With a snap of her finger, Draco, with a pile of clothes, was directed into a dressing room. Hermione smiled encouragingly at him before the door shut.

With a sigh, Draco hung up the assortment of clothes. Then silently climbed out of his black pants and striped button down. The first thing he put on was a gray striped suit with a pink striped shirt. The model had chosen it, and Draco actually didn't mind the colors too much. This would actually look very appropriate under his formal robes. The pants and jacket fit perfectly but the shirt was too short on the sleeves. With a deep breath he stepped out of the dressing room.

Hermione and the model both looked up and smiled. He slowly turned around, and looked quizzically at Hermione.

"Oh, yes. That one is very nice." She smiled, "We'll take it."

The model studied him, "Is their anything wrong with it?"

Draco nodded, "The sleeves." He took off his jacket and held out his arms. The model nodded, flashing him a look he knew all too well.

"That is easy enough, we will just go up a size." Hermione nodded in agreement with the model, "I believe the light blue shirt will fit. Try that on next with the navy suit."

Hermione smiled at him, the navy had been her pick, " Yes, and Draco, just hand us the suit so they can wrap it up."

He nodded and went back in the dressing room. Closing the door he silently climbed out of the suit and handed it over. Draco was pulling off the pink shirt when he heard the two women talking. He leaned closer to the door.

"Draco, is it?" The model said, and he guessed Hermione had nodded, for the model went on, "He is very handsome. Does he have a job?"

"Yes."

"Pity. He would have done well as a model."

Hermione giggled, but Draco glanced at himself in the mirror, the woman though he should be a model? Perhaps he hadn't lost it after all. And here he had been thinking that he didn't have a shot with the woman -even if she was only a muggle.

"Perhaps, he will need some ties or belts to go along with the new suits?"

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "And possibly some new dress shoes."

"Of course." The women paused for a moment, and Draco silently got into the navy suit.

"Are these for a special occasion?" The woman began again, and Draco leaned towards the door, buttoning up the blue shirt.

"Sorry?"

"These new suits...they are for a wedding perhaps?"

Draco grinned, the woman was trying to see if he was single. He straighted his hair in the dressing room mirror, then undid the top two buttons of his shirt. This would be too easy. Hermione had been right, this color did fit him nicely.

"Oh no," Hermione answered, "He just needed some new suits for the office. His were looking rather shabby."

"Ah, I see." The model paused, "Your boyfriend does not like to shop?"

Draco froze, waiting for Hermione's response.

"Not at all," Hermione answered suddenly, "I wasn't even aware of the fact until we moved in together." She fake laughed, and Draco felt his mouth hit the floor.

"Oh." The model answered. Draco was in shock, what was Hermione doing?

"I went to do his laundry today, and that's when it hit me. He had no clothes!" Hermione's voice became fake and snooty. Even Pansy would have been impressed. But Draco just stood there in shock, what the hell was she doing?

The model gave a pathetic laugh in response. Draco finally stepped out of the dressing room, realizing he had been standing their too long.

"Ah, Draco," Hermione grinned slyly at him, "That looks amazing. Yes, I think we will take this one as well."

Draco shot her a questioning look, but she only grinned and motioned for him to turn around. Obediently he turned, showing the suit off to the women. The model nodded shrewdly, avoiding Draco's gaze.

"Will that be all?" The question was directed towards Draco, but Hermione answered.

"I don't know, I would love to see him in the tux from the window display."

The two women smiled at each other, and Draco realized they were practically baring their teeth. They were fighting over him? _Hermione_ was was fighting over him!

"Of course," The model smiled sweetly, then stepped towards him, "but for that I will need to take exact measure-"

Draco reacted without thinking, his arm flinching back as her fingers grazed over his arm- right where the dark mark was. He glared at the woman, who stood there in shock, her hand snatched back to her body. He opened his mouth but nothing came out, and he caught Hermione's gaze. She bit her lip, knowing exactly why he had done that. Shopping suddenly wasn't fun anymore.

"No," Hermione said slowly, her voice back to normal, "I think just these two suits will do for now." She glanced at him again, "Draco, you can get changed and I will pay."

He nodded slowly, realizing he was still fuming - but at his own reaction. Draco turned and went back to the dressing room. All she had done was touch it! And barely at that. But it was too late now, the damage was done. He pulled off the navy suit and got back into his "shabby" muggle clothes. He exited the dressing room with the navy suit, and headed to the front of the store. The model was ringing up the clothes at the counter, her gaze avoiding both his and Hermione's. Hermione just glanced at him as she took the large bag of clothes from the woman. Draco nodded, and they silently headed out the store. He could feel the model's eyes on his back, but he didn't turn around. She wasn't worth it.

As they stepped out into the street, Hermione let out a small sigh. Draco followed beside her as she led them home, and he pondered over what to say. He couldn't believe he had let her see that side of him.

In the darkening streets Hermione glanced up at him slowly. Waiting for him to speak.

"Why?" He finally asked.

"Why what?

"The woman."

She smiled guiltily, "Oh. I don't know."

Draco glanced at her, eyebrows raised.

She turned pink, "I don't know!"

Draco smiled to himself. And Hermione pushed him gently.

"Hey!" he laughed, "Don't make me hex you."

She laughed, swinging the bag of clothes at him, "You wouldn't dare. And anyway, I can still punch you."

Draco scowled at the memory, but Hermione just laughed harder. She had a nice laugh, he realized.

They turned the street corner to the apartment, when flashes of cameras and voices surrounded them. Draco froze, but Hermione grabbed his hand and shoved through the massing crowd. Cameras flashed and voices yelled out, but they shoved through, and Draco gripped his wand tightly, purposefully elbowing the bastards out of the way. Hermione pulled him to the doors and the night-watchman hurried them inside, apologizing for the attack. But they didn't slow, and Draco ran alongside Hermione into the elevator, slamming the button for the ninth floor. Only when the doors closed did they collapse against the elevator walls. Hermione finally released Draco's hand, and she pressed her hand to her face. Draco stared down at her, her head leaning into his shoulder. She looked shaken. He wondered if he should try to comfort her...but no that would probably just make it worse.

"Those were just muggle reporters, right?"

Hermione closed her eyes, and nodded slowly.

"Then that's not bad, right?"

Hermione pulled away from him, staring at the numbers on the elevator panel.

"Draco, it may surprise you to know that some wizards do in fact read muggle papers. That wont have gone unnoticed."

Draco clenched his teeth together, even the muggle media was trying to ruin his life.

"Who reads the muggle paper?" He asked finally.

Hermione met his eye in the mirrored walls, "Harry does."


	10. Of yelling and lying

-SO I realize I said I would update soon, and I lied. But school has finally ended, which means I will dedicate myself to finishing this little blooming romance. And my new laptop is arriving in two weeks so that will def help. anyways, Enjoy

Draco rolled over in bed, and blinked at the clock. It was Saturday he realized, thank god. But the clock read 8:15, what had woken him up so early? He sat up, listening harder. Yelling. And one of the voices was definitely Hermione's.

He sat up slowly, blinking his eyes open, and reached for his wand. Draco listened again, wondering who Hermione was yelling at so early in the morning. It didn't sound like it was going to get physical, but either way he decided to go and check it out. Stepping to his door, he slowly creaked it open, wand in hand.

"Hermione, please listen to me! I'm just trying to help!" A male voice echoed down the hallway.

"Help? How are you helping?" Hermione shot back, "I told you I don't need your protection, the damn Prophet can do what it wants!"

Draco paused in confusion, then he groaned, the Prophet. She must be referring to the muggle reporters from last night. But what did that have to do with the Prophet?

"Hermione, I just want to help you get your life back in order. And when I saw the picture I knew for a fact that the Prophet would be on it in seconds!"

"They don't read muggle magazine's! And that wasn't even a first page photo! Are you telling me that the Prophet has suck so low as to read through crappy muggle magazines in hopes of ruining my life?"

Their was a pause, and Draco shifted in the doorway.

"I'm simply saying that it has happened before. And don't you deny it. They know you are hiding out in muggle London. All I'm saying is be careful."

"No, your saying don't have a life!"

"Hermione, that is not true! You know I want to be able to move on! Ron and Ginny and I, we all want you to move on...But that means don't give the Prophet anything to write about."

Potter. Harry frickin' Potter was in their common room. Draco groaned, and leaned too heavily against his door. It creaked, and he froze. But the argument didn't pause.

"Harry, I haven't given the Prophet anything to write about! It is all lies! I can't even walk out of a book store without them thinking I am shaking up with the owner!"

"You don't think I know what they do! Hermione, I've lived with their bullshit since 4th year! And I know the only thing to is not give them any chances!"

"That wasn't a chance! I was walking back home and the reporters caught me. I couldn't possibly jinx them all at once! And they weren't even interested in me. Their are tons more famous muggles in this building."

"Yes, well this time you were lucky it was just muggle reporters. With their crappy photography only you are visible...who was he anyway?"

Hermione paused, and Draco leaned forward anxiously.

"He is..he's just a friend. We both live in this apartment. That's all." Hermione's voice quieted.

Draco took a deep breath, friends. She said that they were friends.

"He's a muggle?"

Hermione paused, and Draco again leaned too far forward. The door swung fully open, and he swore silently. But the conversation in the other room went silent. Hermione was going to kill him.

"Is he here?" Harry whispered suddenly.

Hermione sighed, and Draco was positive she had turned bright red, "Yes...He's here."

"Er..I'm sorry. I didn't realize...I'll leave now..."

"OK...and Harry, thanks for trying."

"Of course, 'Moine...and we all miss you, you know. Would you mind stopping by the Weasley place soon?"

She exhaled, "Maybe, Harry."

Their was a pause, and some shuffling around.

"...I'll go out the front door."

"You don't have to, Harry. Floo is fine."

Draco froze.

"But, what about...?" Harry paused.

"Oh!' Hermione finally caught on, "Right. Yes, please use the front door."

Draco heard the door open and some whispered words, then finally Harry Potter left the flat.

He counted to ten, then silently walked down the hallway. Hermione stood with her back to him, in the middle of the common room.

"Potter?" He couldn't stop the sneer from coming.

She turned on him, and Draco nearly took a step back. She was still angry.

"Yes, Potter. And you know why he was here. Just like I warned you last night."

Draco decided to backtrack, "What did he want? He tried to sound sincere, though he had heard most of it already.

Hermione sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes, "He was offering me help. Harry was going to use his influence to end any Prophet articles about me. About us, all because of a damn muggle photographer."

Draco nodded, and rolled his eyes, which Hermione unfortunately saw.

In an instant her wand was pointed directly at Draco, "Don't,"she breathed heavily, "test me."

"Harry Potter just offered to save BOTH our asses. And he hates the Prophet more then you and I could ever understand. But he has already done so much to shield me...me and Ron, from so much shit. So don't you dare insult him. If anything you owe him."

Draco raised his arms in defence. But she wasn't done yet.

"Honestly, he has been nothing but good to you. And yet you still can't let go of all the school ground crap? And let me remind you how much worse you made this situation. I had everything under control this morning until you decided to make yourself known. What was I supposed to do then? Tell me?"

Draco eyed her wand warily, "You didn't have to make me a muggle."

"Oh really?" Hermione laughed bitterly, "What was I supposed to do? Announce to Harry Potter that I was so lonely that I was willing to rent a room to a random stranger? And that stranger turned out to be you? You who, in the public eye, is his only remaining enemy? Yeah, that would have gone over real well."

"Oh, so Potter, the great Savior, is allowed to hold a grudge against me - but I can't? Where is that logic? And it wasn't like you had to insinuate that we were sleeping together!"

Hermione stared at him, and slowly lowered her wand.

"You're right. I'm not being fair. And maybe I could have thought of something else, but..."She sighed, her voice quieting, "But maybe I wanted him to think I had moved on. He is so worried about me...So i'm sorry to have dragged you into this."

Draco stared at her. How the tables turned so quickly?

"Why is he so worried about you?"

Hermione avoided his eye, and sighed, "You have a letter. It's on the table."

Then she walked past him, and he heard Hermione close her bedroom door.


	11. Of admitting and acceptance

-This chapter took forever because I wasn't sure how to connect everything...but I think it works. Hope you agree! -

What in the bloody hell was wrong with that woman? First she gets into a screaming match (although most of the screaming was by her) with her apparently close friend, then she drops the matter completely? And what was with Hermione making him into a sodding muggle? Something was going on with his flatmate that Potter seemed to understand on a deeper level. But not even the great "savior of our time" could help. She wouldn't discuss it, whatever it was, with anyone, but it was obviously still destroying her. Draco shook his head, maybe it hadn't been a good idea to move in with her, this witch had a roller coaster of emotions. And yet...every once in a while she showed the old Hermione. Hell, Draco sighed, the screaming Hermione was better then the morose woman hiding in her room.

But why was she even like this? Draco had spent most of his life judging, reading, and playing with peoples emotions. He was very good at it. But Hermione left him at a dead end every time. He hoped to God that not all witches, or mere women for that matter, were like this. Draco had enough trouble with his miserable job, over-bearing mother, and a ministry that would never, it seemed, stop watching him with suspicion.

Draco finally shook himself from his trance, and slowly left the carpeted common room floor where Hermione had just left him. He walked into the kitchen and saw the letter from his mother lying in the center of the bare table. He left it there, sitting down to ponder his most present issue. His flatmate.

Hermione said from the beginning that she wanted a friend in this apartment, someone she could relate to as a magical person. But that was only half the truth, Draco realized, she wanted someone who still bore the scars from the Second War, someone who was on the wrong side of the media's respect, and apparently, someone who also felt alone. And like it or not, Draco fit all of those categories. And he had not been fulfilling his request to help her. But that was also her fault, at times he felt things towards her that confused the hell out of him. It had been a very long time, Hell, maybe the first time, someone had lied to protect him. Hermione hadn't judged him for renting a room in muggle London, had helped him get a new wardrobe, and on most nights, had been trying to grow their apparent friendship. But that was where they both stumbled, Draco Malfoy had never needed friends before, never needed someone to look out for him before. This was all so new to him, and Draco was getting the suspicion that she was expecting something more out of him. As if she were expecting an automatic and heartfelt thank you for all her good deeds. But Draco Malfoy did not do such things. Of course, one day in the future he would know how to do this, but it wasn't going to be soon.  
Sighing Draco pushed back the chair and stood, glaring at his mother's letter. Then he turned and walked down the hallway towards their rooms. What was it that mother had told him before? Witches always want a wizard who can comfort and solve problems, but also someone who listens...Draco could try to do that.

Sooner then he expected Draco stood before her door, and with a hesitant knock he entered. As always her room was dark and so unlike the rest of the apartment, but Draco stared only at the bed where Granger sat, deep in thought.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"I had a dream last night...Well, a nightmare, really...of the war. And you were there. We were in Malfoy Manor, remember?"

Draco nodded slowly, standing awkwardly next to her unmade bed.

"Your vicious Aunt kept trying to decide if we were us, 'cause Harry looked all different. And you...you kept avoiding her question. You didn't turn us in."

Draco swallowed, "Not directly."

Hermione finally glanced at him, smiling sadly, "But still, your uncertainty probably saved our lives..."

Draco cut her off this time, his wand hand clenching unconsciously,"No, don't...don't say that. I was just being a bloody coward. I wasn't trying to help you guys. I don't know what I was doing."

"Draco you were seventeen, of course you were a coward. I was a coward. You have no idea how scary that was...when your Aunt, when she..." Hermione closed her eyes and quieted. Draco stared at her, something in his brain warned him that this was the moment to do the whole comforting shit, but she cut off his thought process again, "Sometimes, sometimes it feels like yesterday. The war. The fear. It still isn't all buried away. I don't know if it ever will be..."

Draco took a breath, "Granger, It is over. It is."

Hermione glanced at him suddenly, "Then why do you still act as if you are a Death Eater on trial?"

Draco took a step back, shocked by her sudden change in attitude.

"Seriously Draco, the War isn't over. Every time I look at you I see it in your eyes, all the guilt and the fear. Why? What are you still ashamed of?"

Draco swallowed, staring at her unblinking gaze. How was he supposed to answer that?

"Jesus, Draco..." Hermione got up suddenly, the bed between them, and she stared at him with wild eyes, "What is wrong with you?"

Finally Draco found his voice, "What does that mean, Granger?"

She rolled her eyes, and walked around the bed, throwing her hands up in the air, "You!"

He stared at her, and Hermione shook her head slowly, then her demeanor softened, "Who are you?"

Draco took a step back, looking at her questioningly.

Hermione asked it again, "Who are you?"

"I..I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy..."

She took a step towards him, a glint in her eye. Her teeth glinted as she looked up at him, "Oh, really?"

He stared at her, "...Yes."

"Then act like it!"

She glared at him, then stormed out of the room with a huff.

Draco stood next to her unmade bed, completely in shock. What was that all about? He stared at the open doorway, his fist clenching, then stormed after her. If she wanted to fight with him too, then so be it.

"Hey, Granger, get back here! What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

He turned into the kitchen to find Hermione facing away from him.

"You know what it means!" She shot back, her whole body rigid.

He stared at her, feeling the anger boil up through his body, his wand hand clenching in preparation. Only a small part of his brain made him forget that his wand was in his back pocket, and that he could have easily blasted her through the room.

"No I don't! You don't make any sense, and that's why!"

Finally she turned around, her words slinging at him like a stunning charm to the chest, "Where is the boy I punched in third grade? The snooty pure-blood brat that called me a mudblood? Huh? What happened to him?"

Draco practically ran forward, glaring at the small witch before him, daring her to speak again. How dare she question him? The air in the kitchen sizzled as they stared each other down.

"Why?", He spat the word out slowly.

"Because that was Draco Malfoy."

He shook his head,"The bratty snob? You want him?"

Hermione glared up at him, her chin thrust out, "Yes, yes I do. Because at least he would fight for what he wanted. At least that Draco would make demands and bully his way into getting what he wanted. He wouldn't be content with a dead end job, hiding from the Prophet or any of that shit...So why do you?"

Draco turned away, he was close to losing it now, "That is not your concern."

Hermione gave a hollow laugh, "Oh, so you don't deny it?"

"Granger, stop now. Before I really lose it."

"Go for it. Lets awaken that Dragon."

Draco let out a breath.

"Ferret."

That did it. Draco turned and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, smirking at the flicker of fear in her eyes, "How dare you judge me! You who ran away for a year after a failed marriage! If I am hiding from the world then guess what, so are you. At least you don't have to walk around with the evidence of your failures on your bare skin! 'Cause that never goes away! People will always look at me like I am something to fear! I can't move forward because no one lets me! I am what society sees me as!"

He shook her when she didn't respond, and when he met her eye Draco wished he hadn't.

"Draco," Hermione whispered after a moment, "It's not your fault."

He stared at her, and pushed her away, letting Hermione stumble back into the kitchen wall. But she only stepped forward, and he quickly retreated, what kind of mind game was she playing with him? Was she crying?

"Draco you were innocent. You did nothing wrong."

"It's not your fault, Draco!"

He flung his hands up but Hermione didn't pause, she practically ran at him. Draco stared at the crazy witch before him, feeling as if he were watching this happen from another perspective. He watched her grab his hands and steady them with her own. Hermione stood inches before him, blocking him between herself and the table, and she was crying.

They were inches apart, both breathing rapidly, faces tinged with the pink flush of anger and confusion. She clenched his wrists in her hands, and stared at his fleeting grey eyes, as Draco tried to think back as to how they ended up here.

Taking a slow breath Hermione slowly lowered their combined hands, and she realesed his from her own sweaty palms. They fell to his side and he watched her, feeling like a puppet doll who had no control over his own movements. Draco realized he was completly at her mercy.

Then, in slow motion, she closed the space between them and Draco felt her body join his. Her arms wrapped around his torso, and her head pressed against his chest. He stared down at his flatmate as she clung to him, and without any other thought, his arms came around and encircled her.

"I..I don't want to be alone anymore, Draco." Her whisper clung to his shirt, and Draco closed his eyes.

Swallowing he relpied in the same tone, saying it for her as well as for himself.

"Me neither."


	12. Of secret files and owl mail

That whole weekend had been awkward, to say the least. Draco had stood there letting Hermione breathe into his shoulder, feeling as immobile as if he were under perificus totalus. The same thought kept running through his mind - what the bloody hell had just happened?

Hermione had yelled at him, forgiven him, and then hugged him. She was completely insane. And so Draco had been hiding from his flat mate ever since. Really he couldn't face the facts that she, muggle born Granger, had been able to get under his skin. And how she had done it had been even more surprising, she had dug in and found the exact weak spot he had hidden for so long. Draco Malfoy was no longer the angry, impulsive child he had once been. But she had yet to learn was why. And he certainly wasn't going to tell her. But she had noticed the differences, and didn't buy his act. Well, guess what Granger, I don't buy your little act either, Draco thought to himself. She was good; Draco had underestimated his flat mate. Though now, of course, when he looked at the bare facts it all made sense. She was hiding just as much as him. And anytime anyone else, including Harry fuckin' Potter, tried to break down that shell, Hermione attacked. I mean, she worked with magical creatures for god's sake, creatures who didn't even know they were being exploited until she explained it to them. She was a mastermind at making people see what she wanted.

But she too had a weakness; Draco wasn't totally sure what it was though. And as much as his pride would admit, it had been nice to be hugged by someone.

Sunday he had woken early and dared to take a walk about muggle London, then after a quick change of clothes had headed over to Diagon Alley. But that had been with a mission, he had gone to Gringotts and that back out. The Malfoy vault had suffered much from the War, and especially the Death Eater Trials. Every person, and even business, that Lucius had manipulated or eliminated as a Death Eater was compensated from the Malfoy estate. However, his father, bastard that he was, had been smart, and kept money hidden throughout other wizarding banks. So that's what he and mother had been living off of for years, but it was finally starting to run low. So it was almost perfect timing for his father to die in Azkaban, forcing Draco to return and get a real job. It was his mother who cared about his inheritance more than he did.

It was noon when he had gotten back to the flat, and Hermione, thankfully, was gone. A note on the table said she was at her mother's house for the day. Draco counted out the galleons for this month's rent and left them in a magically locked cub board. Then he wandered around the flat late into the night.

Monday morning things had seemed to go back to normal, Hermione had been eating breakfast by the time Draco stumbled into the kitchen, and she smirked at his mood. Then he realized he was going to be late and ran out the door. Hermione had been telling him something, and it wasn't until he got to the elevator that he could remember. She had asked if he had any laundry needed to be done. Hermione took off most Mondays, because she didn't need to work that often, not for the money anyway. That always made Draco's day just a tad bit worse as he arrived at his cubicle.

"Hey, Drakie."

"Hey, Drex. I'm pretty sure I said I'd hex you if you kept calling me that."

Drex just snickered from behind the cubicle wall. For the millionth time Draco considered doing a simple silencing charm. But it was against office regulations.

So he got to work, filing and checking off forms and other documents that needed higher ministry approval. Though it seemed like a very muggle technique, Wizards still had a lot of paper business. Though they were able to make it much more efficient then the tree killing muggles. Drex kept leaning over the wall to ask Draco more questions about certain documents. That was really all Draco did, was answer Drex's stupid questions about how to do their frickin job. Honestly, how hard was it to find and file paper reports on a deceased ministry official?

That was when the answer hit him, and Draco nearly laughed at his own stupidity. He had Granger's answer right in front of him. He had resigned himself to the gossip column of the Prophet to find information, when all he needed to do was to look her up in the files. He knew it was illegal, but hey, if it would help him figure out what the hell was up with her, then maybe Hermione would leave him alone.

Standing up, he took some finished files and headed casually back to the back room. Stuffing them in the "filed" folder, he shut the door behind him. With a quick locating spell Draco knew he was the only one in here. Glancing up at the many racks of files, he searched for Granger. She was easy to find. She had a file all to herself, being one of the wizarding world's heroes. And it glowed red with a top security spell. Draco grinned; he had access because he worked in the department. Sliding his hand over the file, it slid open without a problem. Blank pages appeared and Draco merely glanced at the titles - **AWARDS, EXAMS, MEDICAL, MARRIAGE, LEGISLATURE, RESUME...** the pages went on and on. Carefully Draco pulled out the most obvious, **MARRIAGE**. Pulling out the page, it transformed into a thin packet of information. He read it over -

MARRIAGE to Ronald B. Weasley, on January 1st, 2000. Presided by Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts...

Request for DIVORCE filed on 4th of September, 2000. By Hermione G. Weasley...

DIVORCE granted on October 13th of 2000. Officiated By Dean Thomas, Minister of Magic.

-Also granted Mrs. Weasley's request to change name to "Granger".

The file didn't say much more, just clippings from the Prophet and notes taken by some secretary during the Divorce. Draco sighed, and put the file back. They hadn't even made it a year. What had happened?

After a moment Draco reached in and pulled out the **MEDICAL** file, it was much thicker.

It had heavy unnatural paper, records from childhood from a muggle office. Draco studied them incredulously, before realizing they were not his goal. Flipping further in, he paused at a record shortly after the final Battle.

Hermione had been hit with a couple dark spells, suffered from exhaustion, over-exertion, malnutrition, and PTSD. Scrawled beneath the list was a note, from a Healer

_"Patient admits to having sustained an attack from an Unforgivable -and only after much persuasion was she willing to discuss it. She verified it as being the cruciatus curse, preformed months before by the deceased Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange. The Patient cannot recall how many times the curse was used upon herself. As of now we are unable to know what effects she will have from it."_

Slowly he closed the file, and set it back in the case, shutting the file to resume its glowing red lock. He had been there, that day. When his Aunt had done that to her, and she had almost suffered worse. The werewolf, Draco shuddered, had nearly gotten her too. He had been unable to watch that, and had quivered in the corner until Harry and Ron had suddenly burst out of nowhere. Draco felt sick; she had mentioned that very scene to him on Saturday. Her nightmare...

"Drakie?" Drex's voice startled Draco so much; he had his wand out in self defense. He managed to cover his surprise, by smirking at Drex's nervous glance at Draco's raised wand. Drex hesitantly came forward and Draco lowered his wand.

"I told you not to call me that."

"Here...You just got an owl. What were you doing back here anyway?"

Draco took a casual step away from the glowing file, "Just filing things myself. I'm tired of being blamed when my paperwork doesn't get filed by that stupid Temp."

"Well this is pretty important, I think...from "up there'" Drex grinned foolishly. He loved to constantly point out that all the important Ministry departments were above them. Literally.

"Well, hand it over."

Drex shook his head, "Like I said, it's important. The owl nearly took my hand off when I went to get it. Its waiting on your desk. Hope you have some owl treats." Drex grinned and turned down the aisle. Draco rolled his eyes, and followed him out. He was sure her answer would have been in that file somewhere. He would just have to look again.

Turning down to his cubicle, he saw Drex was correct. A huge owl was waiting for him. Upon seeing him, however, the owl stuck out his leg. Draco had to duck when the bird took flight, and he heard furious giggling from Drex.

Drex leaned over the wall, grinning, "What's it say?"

Draco glared at him, and sat back at his desk. The outside read "From the Desk of Hermione Granger, Director of Magical Creature Cooperation and Protection". Draco swallowed, it was from Granger.

Ignoring Drex he opened the official looking letter.

_DRACO,_

_COME HOME NOW._

_- Sorry about the owl. Thought it was safer to make it sound official._

_-H_  
Draco quickly closed the letter, despite Drex's wining.

"It's nothing. The Department just needs some files on a wizard they suspect of...running a goblin casino...uh, better take care of it."

Grabbing his cloak, he ignored Drex and walked quickly out of the office. What the hell was Hermione doing, sending him stuff at work? And what was with the message? He ran out into the main Ministry floor and went to the apparation site. Turning quickly his last thought was the reporters might have figured out their situation. He hoped not.


	13. Of Death Eaters and unforgivables

-So most of you figured out what would happen in your wonderfully kind and funny reviews of the last chapter. Let's see if you're right!

He arrived in the entrance way of the flat, wondering for a moment if he needed to have his wand out. Cautiously Draco peeked into the common-room, where he saw Hermione sitting on the sofa. Despite the fact that her head was in her hands, all seemed calm in the apartment. Draco took off his cloak and stepped forward, then paused, was she wearing his t-shirt?

"I'm here."  
Hermione whipped her head around, seeming surprised and shaken. What had happened to her? He glanced again around the room half expecting to see burn marks on the walls.

"Draco, um...you never answered your mothers letter."

He stared at her, feeling a sinking feeling, "No...I was getting to it..."

"Well, next time you really should answer her mail quicker."

"Dare I ask why?"

Hermione glanced at him slowly, looking rather guilty.

"Well, um...I was home doing laundry. And someone came in the floo. And obviously I thought it was you, so I called out to you. Only it..."

"It was my mother." Draco finished for her. He sighed, trying to imagine how that had gone.

Hermione nodded.

"Alright," Draco nodded, "I'm guessing there is more?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Well, she seemed a little...tense. She demanded to know if this was the "muggle dwelling" where you lived. Then started getting kinda nosey..."

"Nosey?" Draco snorted. That was an understatement.

"I wasn't exactly properly dressed, as I said I was doing laundry. Your laundry."

Draco had to sit down. Honestly, he was surprised Hermione was still alive.

"Just spill, Granger."

There was a long pause where Hermione just stared at him, as if hoping he would read her mind. When Draco raised his eyebrows she caved.

"I was wearing your shirt. Only your shirt."

Hermione gave him a half smile, but his vision had gone black for a moment. Oh what his mother was going to do to him. He stared at Hermione for a moment, suddenly finding it hard to form a sentence.

"Does she know who you are?"

Hermione shook her head,

"Um, I don't think so...I got the impression she thought I was a muggle...",Draco sighed, "And...I think she got the idea that we were living together. As a couple."

"No shit, Granger."

Hermione glared at him.

"Anyway, she left after demanding that I make you aware of the situation about your inheritance?" She glanced at him, but he ignored it, "And I think she was heading to your office so I owled you to come home..."

Draco nodded slowly, that, at least, had been a good idea.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Why exactly were you only wearing my shirt?"

Hermione blushed, "I didn't have any clean clothes either."

Draco smirked at her. He leaned forward and put his head in his hands, trying to rationalize his mothers arrival...and departure. No, he hadn't read her letter yet. It was sitting on the kitchen table. And he wasn't sure how to explain the living situation. He wasn't even quite sure of it. Because everyone seemed to think they were together...Maybe...

"Draco?"

He glanced at his roommate, banishing the last thought from his mind.

"What exactly did your mother mean about "the situation about your inheritance"?"

He sat back in his chair, and Hermione's eyes flickered at his sudden change.

"Nothing."

Hermione flashed her "nice try" look, something she was well known for when defending magical creatures against greedy wizards.  
"It's nothing to do with you. That was just what the letter said. She just..." Draco quieted, though he knew exactly what his mother had done. The surprise of Draco's living situation was, in her view, shocking enough to get back at her only son. Narcissa had told Hermione the message in hopes of making Draco face his past.

"You're avoiding the question, Draco."

He glared at her, but Hermione merely pushed back a lose strand of hair, unfazed.

"Now, if I remember correctly, under wizarding law, inheritance is usually passed down when the elder generation thinks the witch or wizard is worthy..." Hermione stared at him as it all clicked into place, "Or if they die."  
Draco looked away.

"That's why you came back to London. You're father just died in Azkaban, and certainly your family would have a traditional inheritance...but why did your mother need to remind you of it? Wizarding law says..."

"Well, wizarding laws can be bent." Draco leaned back in his chair, wand hand forming into a fist. He felt Hermione's eyes on his face, but he refused to look at her.

"What do you mean?"

Draco grinned, "Ah, nice try Granger. This isn't one of your injustice trials for the innocent troll children...you can't help me out of this one."

Hermione glared at him, "Draco stop avoiding the question! What is the issue over your inheritance? Wizarding decree number 43..."

"Oh, will you just stop!" Draco stood, fists clenching together," Wizarding laws don't apply to Death Eaters."

The look Hermione gave him nearly pushed Draco over the edge, and with a groan he stormed out of the common-room.

'Draco, wait!"

He was already in the kitchen when he saw the damn letter still resting on the table, and taking out his wand he burned it. A second later water was poured over to reveal a scorched circle in the center of the oak table.

"Draco!"

Draco turned around against his will.

Hermione stood before him, wand out, "What are you saying? That the Ministry won't give you your inheritance because your father was a Death Eater?"

Draco laughed and shook his head, "No, no, Hermione. They won't give me my inheritance because _I'm_ a Death Eater. And why would they? They've taken everything else from my family. Why do you think..."

"Draco," Hermione's voice had the same even tone from Saturday, "You're not a Death Eater."

He couldn't help it, Draco laughed, a sick laugh that hurt his throat.

"What is this, then?" Draco yanked back his sleeve, "What is this?"

Hermione didn't even flinch, only in a very 'De Ja Vu'ish way, took a slow step towards him.

"Draco, you didn't do anything. You are not guilty of what your father did. You were Voldemort's punishment when your father screwed up. Harry..."

"Harry? What the hell does Harry frickin' Potter know? That I cried before Dumbledore, that I _cried my eyes out_?"

"That you didn't kill him. You were never a Death Eater."

Draco couldn't take it anymore, not her calm voice or caring eyes, nor the damn way she kept pronouncing his name. He turned towards the hallway. But he hit an invisible shield. Growling he raised his wand and turned back to Granger, but she only flicked her wrist and his wand flew to her outstretched palm.

"Granger, you really don't want to be doing this."

"Draco, what the Ministry is doing is wrong. They can't legally keep your inheritance. You have to fight this! No wonder your mother was so adamant..."  
"Stop. saying. my, name." Draco breathed through his nose, trying to regain a sense of control.

"No."

His head whipped around to meet her gaze.

"Draco, you have to fight this. You are not a Death Eater."

"Really? Then why do I have a fucking snake and skull tattooed on my arm, why did I have to suffer through those damn trials? Why am I in a Ministry job that is fit for imbeciles and squibs?"

Hermione shook her head, and he swore silently, she was starting to cry. Why was that all this witch ever did?

"Draco you have to move on from this."

And right them Draco saw his opening, "Move on? Fine. Then you have to move on too. From whatever fucking thing controls your crazy emotions. You're telling me to face my past? Face yours, Granger."

Hermione swallowed, and took a half step back.

"This isn't about me."

Draco through his hands in the air, "Oh, of course not! Nothing is ever about you! That's why you push all your old friends away. That's why you're hiding in muggle London."

"Draco, that is completely different..." Hermione cried out.

"Bullshit. At least you don't have to wear your past tattooed on your god damn skin!"

Draco met her eyes, and swallowed. Hermione's chest was heaving and she was fighting back tears. But the expression her face was unexpected.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." She whispered. Her arms rose, and Draco flinched, expecting to be blasted out of the room. But she merely dropped both wands to the floor, and did something completely unexpected, Hermione ripped off her shirt.

Draco stared at her, shocked, then finally realized what she was doing. Across her waist was an ugly purple scar. It stretched below her jeans up towards her bra. Draco swallowed.

"What...?" he whispered.

Hermione's eyes were blank as she stared at him.

"That day at Malfoy Manor...when Harry, Ron and I were captured...Your aunt...she..."

With horror Draco remembered the file he had read only a few hours before, _"As of now we are unable to know what effects she will have from..." _The Cruciatus curse.

"I can't have children," Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, breathing rapidly, voice growing weaker, "The curse...made it impossible..."

It all made sense now. Draco stared at the witch sobbing before him, halfway across the kitchen. Only a burnt table separated two miserable souls whose pasts had ruined their future.

"That's why we divorced...I lost the baby...I,I lost my...child..." Hermione cried out, falling to her knees, and then collapsing to a pile on the floor.

Draco watched her go down in slow motion, and suddenly everything he had been so careful to hide came bubbling to the surface.


	14. Of tears cried and moments stolen

OKAY, HERE IT IS (KINDA) what everyone has been waiting for. Hope you like it, cause it's certainly a break from my previous chapters. But I promise the story continues after this. Enjoy (and reply)!

Draco swallowed dryly, feeling as if the space between them was slowly getting wider. He watched her cry, huddled against the kitchen shelves, collapsed on the floor. Slowly, he went towards her. But he felt different, like he was watching this from someone else's body. He hardly felt himself move towards her. Something in him had either just awoken, or finally died. Draco wasn't sure which, but he knew, just like he had known on the top of the Astronomy Tower, that this was one of those moments that would forever change his future actions. And as he went towards her, though he saw her crying, he heard nothing. Not her gasping breath or even his own slow breathing, not the humming of the muggle appliances, and not even the voice in his head, the voice that sounded like his father. Everything was completely quiet.

Somehow, he was kneeling in front of her and gently pulling her shaking form to his own. The bratty Draco who had once called her a mudblood, the Draco who had hidden in muggle London, and the Draco who acted superior simply because his father did, they were all gone. It was an out of body experience. Yet, all he saw then, all he felt, was the warm flesh of another; another person who had fought in a war at too young an age, who dealt with celebrity status everyday, whose personal life was nonexistent, and whose inner feelings were kept locked inside. This was a woman, a witch, who had always done everything the right way, who worked to the bone to succeed, and who wore a mask to hide any weaknesses. And right now she was crying, and Draco knew that she wasn't crying for herself. She was crying for her lost child, for Ron, and...for Draco, himself. She wrapped her fingers into his shirt and hung her head in his shoulder, and her pure emotions warmed him. Draco realized that he wasn't simply holding her, he was clinging to her, and he needed this as much as she did. And so Draco finally let his inner voice speak, the one that had been so abused and quieted for so long. Draco allowed himself to feel something other than distrust, other than hatred, and other than pain. Leaning into her, Draco carefully pulled her head up and she blinked up at him, staring at him with large brown eyes.

"Draco..." She whispered.

He swallowed, finally letting his body tingle at the sound of her voice.

"Hermione." Draco whispered back, and ever so slowly pulled her face to his.

There wasn't a spark. There wasn't an eclipse of emotion. It wasn't hasty or rushed. But it was something else entirely.

They kissed slowly, feeling each other's lips, and holding each other close. Both were gentle and nervous, and they smiled shyly at each other. Hermione had stopped crying, and Draco gently wiped off her tears with his thumbs, letting his lips explore the rest of her face. Her hands still clung to his shirt, and they stayed there, tugging and gripping at the fabric, but never leaving. She turned her face up at Draco's touch and he traced her lips with his thumb.

His mouth worked on its own accord. Whispering her name and tasting her face and neck. His hands ever so slowly came down upon her bare middle and molded into the warm skin. She shivered slightly and Draco grinned into her neck.

After a moment of feeling her pulse under his lips Draco pulled away, "I'm sorry," he whispered into her skin.

Hermione took her hands and pulled his face to hers, "For what?" She whispered, and smiled, a smile that only someone as innocent and gentle as Hermione Granger could do. Draco swallowed, and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She was forgiving him, for everything. Just like that, her simple innocent smile denied that the past between them had been anything but a memory.

Draco stared into her eyes, hesitating with the words he wanted to say, but life had taught him never to admit. So he took her hands and slowly pulled Hermione to her feet. She leaned against the counter top, watching him, and Draco once again fell into her embrace. Her skin, her scent, all of it was something completely new to him. As he wrapped around her torso, and continued to kiss her throat and shoulders. She held tightly to him, her hands gently swaying up and down his back.

She murmured into his hair, and he looked up again at his flatmate, the woman he had taunted for years. This was someone else. Hermione smiled, and pushed their lips together again, letting her body coil into his. Draco had never felt anything so...so natural.

"Draco," She whispered into his mouth.

He shivered, "Yes?"

Hermione deepened the kiss for a moment then pulled away, "Draco, you have to go to work."

Draco stared at her, licking his lips and catching his breath. He felt as giddy as if he were snogging someone for the first time. He couldn't possibly go back to work now. She smiled, almost teasingly, keeping her arms wrapped around him.

"I promise I'll be right here. Waiting."

Draco stared at her again, trying to read her mind, that haphazard garden of knowledge that she so confidently, yet innocently, displayed. He shut his eyes in defeat, keeping his hands around her bare waist.

"Hermione, what just happened...?" He whispered, "What are you doing to me?"

She smiled, "I could ask you the same thing."

They stared at each other, silent again.

"Go..." She repeated, and slowly let her hands release his shirt. Draco sighed, and pulled away from her, not before attacking her mouth again with passion he had forgotten he had. She returned it, and then pushed him away after only a minute. Draco smiled guiltily at her, hesitating before finally pulling his body away from hers. It felt horrible, not feeling her body pressed to his, and he stared at her pathetically one last time.

Hermione bit her lip, smiling her innocent smile, "Go."

So Draco turned and left the kitchen, his mind suddenly returning to normal speed as he flooed back to the Ministry. Suddenly being around normal witches and wizards, being back in reality, the events of the day finally sunk in. He stumbled back to his desk, and stared at the blank walls of his cubicle. What the hell had just happened?


	15. Of no turning back

Draco hadn't even sat down at his cubicle for five minutes, but it was apparently clear to all that he was not feeling like himself. Drex was kind enough to point that out, but only after ten minutes of badgering him about where he had gone. But honestly, not even Drex could bother him now. Draco almost wished he could hand deliver the forms to all of the Ministry officials just so they could stare in awe at the man they had tried to put down. Draco felt, which he hadn't in a long time, that he was on top of the world. His stomach was in knots, as if he had just finished a game of Quidditch. He did his best to bury himself in the piles of work, but her lips and skin, her scent, all kept flooding his mind. Hermione Granger. She was something else entirely.

Normally this type of thought was quickly pushed aside, Draco had never considered himself to be a sicky sweet romantic. He didn't spend hours day dreaming over a witch, and laughed at others who did. But once again, he had underestimated the affect of Hermione Granger.

She was amazing, why hadn't he allowed himself to notice that before? Hermione was strong, brilliant, and...just as broken as him. And that made Draco sit back in his chair, because it wasn't right; Hermione had done everything right in the world, and because of _his_ Aunt she had to suffer. Draco felt sick remembering the scene in Malfoy Manor, wishing desperately to forget that memory, to pretend it never happened. She didn't deserve such a punishment.

"So, Mr. Malfoy, you decided to return?"

Draco closed his eyes, then calmly looked back at his boss standing behind him.

"Yes, Sir..." Draco froze, what had been his excuse?

"I take it the Department of Magical Creatures is running smoothly again." His Boss, Orris Ribly, prompted, the fat old wizard staring at him through half moon spectacles.

"Yes, Sir..."

His boss nodded, "Very well. But next time please alert me when you plan on running off to assist other Departments, and you will remain here until all your work is done. I don't want you to fall behind."

Draco clenched his teeth together, nodding slowly, watching his boss shuffle away. He was never late with his work, had never fallen behind; but now, today of all days, he had to stay late? Would this day have any more surprises for him? Draco groaned and turned back to his desk.

Drex snickered from his cubicle, and Draco sighed, wondering what Hermione was doing right now. Obviously he had watched too many muggle movies with her, because all he wanted to do was apparate home, and kiss every part of her skin until she glowed. Draco shifted in his chair, that was not something to daydream about here.

He hoped she had hadn't awoken from this dream yet, that reality hadn't settled in. Because Draco finally understood everything, and nothing. He felt secure in his future, but at the same time it was as confused as ever. All he knew was that Hermione Granger was at their flat waiting for him. So he got to work.

By the time he finished all his work everyone had left the office. Drex had gotten a huge kick out of leaving before him, and Draco was sure he would hear about it for the next week. It was not even an hour later, but it might as well as have been the next day. He found himself constantly looking at the clock and worrying. Draco laughed aloud at one point, because this was so unlike him.

There were still wizards in the main entrance of the Ministry, and that forced Draco to slow down. He felt panicked as he headed towards the apparation point, almost glad the muggles forced him to walk home from Diagon Alley. It would give him time to rationalize, and to calm down. Because Draco knew, as soon as he walked into their flat, all sense of normalcy would disappear.

Before he realized it, Draco was home, pausing before the elevator doors. He took a deep breath, staring at himself in the gold tinted mirrors of the elevator, that awful muggle beeping at each level like a countdown. As the door opened to the ninth level, Draco felt as if he were walking out onto the Quidditch pitch, and cracked his neck on instinct.

Then he was opening the door into room 24, and time stopped.

Hermione was sitting on the couch reading, bent over in such a similar position as this afternoon that Draco paused for a moment. He had learned quickly, however, that when Hermione started reading, she heard and saw nothing else. So it was with a sudden confidence that Draco came up behind her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. She looked up suddenly, and Draco held his breath when she smiled softly at him.

"You're late."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. Setting her book beside her, she stood and Draco let his hands fall to the couch cushions.

They stared at each other, until finally Hermione blushed and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"So, should we, um, talk about what happened?"

Draco's fingers gripped the couch nervously, "Why?"

"I just...I wanted to clarify between us..."

"Clarify?" Draco hid his concern with a classic Malfoy smirk, "You're not in the courtroom, Hermione."

Hermione gave him such an intense look, Draco wondered again at why he had never noticed her sexiness before. It was a mix of passion and fragility. At the same time however, Draco wondered nervously if she were any good at occlumancy.

"How do you do that?" She smiled suddenly, looking innocent again.

Draco could have watched her all day, "What?"

She bit her lip, "Act as if this is normal, as if this...between us is...is..."

Her voice faltered as Draco came around the couch, and he liked that he made her nervous. That meant she was feeling the same way. He stood before her, and took her face in his hands, "Hermione, this is all your doing. Don't ruin it now, ok?"

She watched him, her brown eyes practically glowing, "...I know, I'm not making any sense..."

Draco grinned, "You don't normally."

Hermione looked away, blushing, then slowly took his hands in her own. Carefully they intertwined their fingers, breathing as quietly as possible. Their was something different in this otherwise cliché moment, and both knew it.

"Draco, how can this work?"

Draco exhaled slowly, she was as much a realist as he was.

"I don't know," He answered honestly, "But..." Hermione met his gaze again, her fingers tightening around his, "I do want to try."

"I do too."

Draco took this as his cue, and keeping their hands entwined, he pulled Hermione Granger to him. It was not a slow hesitant kiss this time, but passionate and anxious. And as their need intensified their hands broke apart and wrapped around the other.

"I can't believe...you made me go...to work." Draco whispered between kisses.

He felt her smile, "I don't know what I was thinking," she whispered back.

When her tongue found his mouth, Draco knew it was all over. He was never going back, and he didn't want to. He gripped her waist, pushing their bodies together, and both shuddered at the desire.

Then Hermione pulled away, and Draco once again felt the Velcro sensation, that her body physically stole all the warmth from his. He stared at Hermione, as her wonderfully bruised mouth debated over what to say,

"Come on," She whispered, and he glimpsed that seductive side of her personality again, "My room."

Draco swallowed, not out of nerves, but the fact that was really happening. He nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact with her, just walked over and picked her up.

Hermione's reaction was instantaneous, her body wrapping around his, and Draco quickly made his way through their flat. He stumbled only once in the hallway, but neither of them bothered to respond to the catcalls of the magical paintings that followed. Draco could have sworn he heard Joan of Arc say, "Finally," but that thought was quickly forgotten as they stumbled into her room.

They crashed onto the bed, and Hermione wasted no time in unbuttoning his shirt. Draco helped, shrugging the shirt onto the floor, and burying his head in her chest as her shirt also disappeared. His hands ran over her skin, and Hermione arched her back, unhooking her bra, letting Draco explore her chest more fully. Her hands wrapped around his torso, tracing his spine and digging into his skin. She moaned when he attacked her breasts with his mouth, and Draco struggled to stay in control.

Draco shifted immediately when he felt her hands at his belt, and he surfaced from her breasts, attacking her mouth again. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled them up so they were sitting. Chests pressed together, and mouths never pausing, Draco and Hermione made use of this new position to rid themselves of their remaining outer clothing.

"Come on Gryffindor, I know you can do better then that." Draco whispered into her neck as they struggled to kick off their constricting clothes. Hermione shook off her pants and responded by shoving Draco down on the bed and climbing on top. Pulling their faces together she bit his lower lip, and locked his hands above his head, "You Slytherin's never could be patient," She whispered, looking down at him.

He grinned up at her, "Nope."

Hermione kissed him again, releasing his hands, and Draco quickly rolled them over, his hands pulling at her cotton panties. Then he slowed his attack on her body, and kicking off his boxers, he carefully knelt over her, only his lips touching her skin. Slowly and teasingly he started at her forehead, and trailed his way down her body, kissing every inch of her skin. When he got to her thighs, her legs automatically opened, but Draco continued kissing all the way to her knees. He wanted to reach her feet, but suddenly her hands grabbed him and pulled him back up.

"Enough," Hermione whispered huskily into his mouth, her hands running down his back. Draco closed his eyes at the sensation, and finally positioned herself in between her legs. With a last sweaty kiss, he took hold off her hips and entered.

The gasp from Hermione's lips was the most beautiful thing in the world, and Draco groaned with anticipation. Burying his head between her breasts, he let themselves sink into this new feeling. He adjusted himself, and Hermione's hands came up and pulled his face to hers. So slowly, as they kissed, he started moving inside of her. It quickly became fast and heated. Draco bit her shoulder, as the friction between them took over his body. He could feel her chest heaving beneath his, and when her hands grasped his butt cheeks he was gone. He suffocated himself in her breasts, and pounded into her. Hermione arched her back, moaning and Draco shook with desire. The building sensation between their combined bodies made Draco gasp for breath, and he pushed himself further into her sheath.

"Draco." Hermione murmured gripping his hair, and Draco looked up at her face, scrunched up in ecstasy. Placing a sweaty kiss on her lips, Draco whispered her name in return. She opened her eyes, and stared at him, and they kissed fervently. His hands wrapped into her hair, and he slowed down his attack on her loins.

They both were shaking now, bodies sprinkled with perspiration, and Draco let everything go. Forcefully he bent further over her, and Hermione began to meet his thrusts. Then, moments later, the sensation hit both of them, and Hermione cried out, pulling at his hair. Draco collapsed into her as soon as he felt her folds tighten around him. And just like that, they were two separate people again.

They both lay on her bed, gasping for breath and bodies pressed together. Draco slowly propped himself on his elbows and pulled out of her, collapsing next to her on the bed. Hermione rolled over, and watched him, eyes closed and breathing heavily. Very lightly she traced her hand over his face, and his eyes blinked open. Draco felt a sudden pull in his chest, and he realized it had everything to do with the woman lying naked next to him.

Carefully he took her hand, and never breaking eye contact, kissed every one of her finger tips. The look Hermione gave him actually gave him goose bumps. What was happening to him?


	16. Of Afghans and pillow talk

They stared silently at each other for a long moment, each lying naked upon the bed covers. The room was dim, and Draco realized that he had never seen Hermione's room when the curtains were pushed aside to let in the sunlight. He wondered faintly why that was, it only added to the enclosed and hidden atmosphere that was her bedroom. It didn't match the rest of the flat at all, and Draco wondered if this was the representation of her brilliant mind. Surrounded by all her beauty, she was, like all others, an overwhelmed soul struggling to stay afloat.

Hesitantly Draco reached over and pulled their faces together, placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

"Hello," Hermione smiled at him, resting her face closer to his.

"Hi," Draco propped his head in his hand, and watched her.

There was another long pause, and Hermione sat up and pulled an Afghan quilt from the edge of the bed. Laying it over each of them, she curled up next to him, letting his arm drape over her.

Suddenly Draco smiled, and laughed silently, and Hermione glanced at him curiously.

"What?"

Draco sighed, "...Everyone thought we were together before, it just took us the longest to figure it out."

Hermione smiled, "Like who?"

"Your mother, my mother, Potter, Tod." Draco almost said Drex, but he hardly qualified.

"Please, let's leave our mothers out of this," Hermione laughed, "and remember Harry thought you were just some muggle bloke."

Draco shook his head at the memory.

"And what do you mean Tod?"

Draco avoided her gaze until her hands pushed against his chest playfully.

"I might have made it clear that you were out of bounds, and besides, he works here. And he's a bit of a pervert."

Hermione laughed.

"But you're not completely innocent either, "Draco smirked, rolling over so he was lying comfortably on her stomach, "need I remind you of the poor sales lady?"

Hermione blushed, and looked away guiltily, hands playing in his hair.

"Well, she was no better then Tod. I mean, honestly."

"That sounds like jealousy to me."

Hermione pulled at his hair, "Maybe."

Draco smirked and nestled his face into her stomach.

They stared at each other silently again for a moment, but this time it was Draco who asked the inevitable question, "What now?"

He looked up at Hermione slowly, and her hands drifted down to rest on his shoulders, "Can't we stay like this always?" she whispered.

Draco stared up at her, knowing the truth of that question, and propped his chin on her warm stomach, "Yes."

Hermione wrapped his hair around her finger, and exhaled slowly.

"You know this would be the biggest news since...since the war, if this got out."

Draco nodded slowly, "They don't need to find out."

Hermione sat up on the bed, and pulled Draco up, brushing her hands over his face, tracing his lips. The intensity in her eyes made Draco swallow dryly.

"Never thought you would be the hopeful one in this relationship."

Draco glared at her until she smirked, "This is all your fault, remember." He poked her nose.

Hermione grinned and pulled him into her embrace. Draco kissed her shoulder as they crashed back down onto the bed. Leaning over her, Draco kissed her mouth, and her hands held their faces together, "Now, enough talk..." She grinned, and Draco shivered as her hands drifted down his back.

Hermione noticed his reaction, and biting her lip, continued to run her hands up and down his back. Draco bent his head into her chest, growling faintly, and she laughed.

Suddenly Draco pulled away and gave Hermione such a serious look, that she dropped her hands, "What?" she whispered.

Wordlessly Draco bent down and kissed the purple scar that traced over her skin. Gently and meticulously he covered it with his mouth, "What happened?" He whispered finally, letting his hands run up and down her arms.

"You don't want to know that..."

Draco looked up at her face, seeing the pain and sadness that his one question caused, "Yes, I do."

Hermione glanced down at him and carefully pulled at his shoulders, and Draco let himself be pulled next to her. She glanced up at the ceiling and Draco saw her eyes cloud over with the pain of the memory, gently he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"We...we found out shortly before the wedding. And it was so exciting, we had been trying to get pregnant before, but because of our status we knew marriage was necessary. I mean, we had already been married since the Final Battle. It was then we knew we were going to live our lives together...we already had that bond between us. The ceremony was just a formality neither of us really cared about. But...everyone wanted a wedding. Our parents expected it...and so did the world. So we did..."

Draco propped his head on his hand, "So you didn't want to get married?"

Hermione glanced at him, "Yes and no. We were going to get married eventually...just not so soon, and yet somehow we were persuaded into it. I mean, we were told over and over how a wedding between "The Golden Trio" would really help the morale of the wizarding world, especially for victims of the war. "It had been too long since people could celebrate together", and all that garbage..."

Hermione paused and exhaled, and Draco wrapped his arm around her tighter in understanding. This is what she had been holding in for so long, and it was painful finally letting it out.

"I mean, maybe if we hadn't been so young, maybe we could have..." She shook her head," I see now it was all for publicity, our private life together was made into a huge publicity stunt...we were used..." Her voice became broke, and Hermione bit her lip, pausing again, "...But when I found out I was pregnant it all seemed worth it. So we went through with the wedding, but decided to keep the pregnancy quiet."

Hermione paused again, and wiped a tear from her eye. Draco leaned over and kissed her gently, "You can stop if you want..." But she shook her head, "No, it...it feels right."

"I was in my 5th month, muggles call it the 2nd trimester...anyway, it had been getting harder to hide it, my stomach was really starting to show..." Hermione quieted, and Draco watched her hands trace her stomach absently. Leaning into her hands Draco kissed them, but her gaze never left the ceiling, and he wondered if Hermione noticed that she was crying.

Hermione swallowed, "It..it was so sudden. I was out with my mother, in a muggle town, and it just hit me. It literally felt like someone was preforming the cruciatous curse...and then there was blood everywhere. I couldn't do anything," Hermione was crying silently, her voice almost emotionless, "My mother said later that my nose started bleeding at one point. But I couldn't do anything to stop, none of the spells I knew worked. And too many of them were dangerous to perform for the...the baby..."

Hermione inhaled sharply and sat up, rocking back in forth, sobbing loudly now, "I just wanted to apparate to St. Mungo's...that was the only thing on my mind..but you can't when the pregnancy is that far along. I couldn't even contact Ron until it was too late...I was taken to a muggle hospital...and..."

Draco cut her off, sitting up and wrapping himself tightly around her shaking body. Hermione curled into his chest again, her sobs echoing into his heart. Draco ran his fingers through her hair, whispered in her ear, but she was so far gone. So he let her cry, pulling the blanket around their naked bodies. Sitting on the bed in the empty room that was Hermione's, Draco wrapped himself protectively around her, and let her finally be free.

**-This **is a picture of my idea of their night together, for anyone who wants a better idea. lol. And no, I didn't draw it...Thanks, Akita-Chan22 for the idea (though you forced me into it) lol.

So fanfic hates me and wont let me post a link here – so to see the pic check out my profile. Its worth seeing.


	17. Of phone calls and secret truths

It was hours later, but time seemed to stand still inside the barren walls of Hermione's room. Draco blinked his eyes open, and turned to look at Hermione, who was still asleep. Her face finally looked untroubled from everything that had happened to her, and Draco felt his chest tighten as he thought about it. He had this sudden urge to make her forget it all, to take away all her pain. Draco Malfoy wanted to help someone. He sighed at the ridiculous thought, wondering how Hermione had gotten under his skin so fast. If only he could return the favor.

But, sooner then he wanted it, life caught up with them. Draco jolted up in bed at the awful muggle noise coming from somewhere in the room. Careful, as to not awake Hermione, he pulled away from her and looked around the room. There, only a few feet away on the floor, was Hermione's purse that held all her muggle contraptions. And that was what was making the noise. Groaning Draco climbed out from the blankets and went to the purse. Sitting back down on the bed he set the thing next to him, and after a hesitation, dove into her purse. He had to make that awful noise stop.

It was her muggle phone, and Draco knew enough that it was a version of the thing in the common room. But who was calling Hermione at this hour? Draco glanced at the clock and realized it was noon the next day. Guess they weren't going to work today. Finally he found the thing glowing and shrieking in a pocket of her purse. But now what? He had seen her do this nearly a million times, but just like the television, Draco had no clue how to silence the thing.

Suddenly Hermione's hand reached around him and the small box quieted at her touch. Setting it back in her purse, her hand wrapped around Draco's middle and pulled him further back into the bed. Draco smiled and leaned back into Hermione, her head peeking at him from over his shoulder;

"Hi."

Draco leaned in and kissed her, "Hi."

"Sorry about that."

"That's alright, who was it?"

Hermione wrapped her arms tighter around him, snuggling close, "Michelle."

Draco nodded slowly. Michelle was Hermione's muggle friend from when they were younger, and somehow Hermione had still failed to tell her that she was a witch. Draco had only met her once, but she was witty and like-able, for a muggle girl.

"She's gonna call back."

Hermione nodded, smiling slightly, "You could try and answer the phone again."

Draco nudged her, "I was going to figure it out."

He felt Hermione laugh underneath him.

Draco pulled away from her, and turned over, squashing Hermione beneath him.

"I think I like you best naked."

Hermione giggled, "Typical male response."

Draco glared at her, "Not true. I also think you would look amazing in traditional witches robes. Not those work robes you wear, but real fancy ones. A maroon or ruby red, with full skirts and everything."

Hermione silently reached up and pushed the hair out of his eyes, "How formal."

"Nothing but the best."

Hermione grinned and pulled him into a kiss. It was deep and anxious, and when she finally pulled away, her eyes were sad again.

"Thank you," she whispered, "for listening and letting me...get it out."

Draco stared into her eyes, "You needed to."

Hermione bit her lip, "Will you tell me what happened?"

Draco paused in grazing her neck, "What?"

"With you and your mother...and the Ministry."

Draco stiffened, and in response Hermione wrapped her arms around him, "Please?"

Knowing he had no choice, Draco dropped his head into her chest in defeat, "Alright," he whispered. Her hands came up and stroked his hair, and Draco listened to her heart beat, letting it calm him, as he decided what to say.

"You know that after the trials we lost...everything. The Manor was held in collateral, and all of our assets, money, all of it was just gone. I know what they were doing, and I can say now that I understand. But it still hurt, when everything was taken away from us. We were branded as dark wizards for Father's...for his role. Mother was so angry, all the time. We moved around a lot, mainly to escape the prosecution from the media."

Draco shifted, "Father, however, had planned ahead. Only mother knew what he had done, and I can't imagine what would have happened had he been discovered. For years, since our second year at Hogwarts practically, he had been transferring money into other wizarding banks. So the media can say he was a heartless Death Eater who gave his son to the Dark Lord, but that is not true. He was my father. And he chose wrong, but still he was sensible enough to plan for the worst.

"That's what mother and I have been living off of for years, the money he put away for us in international banks. He knew that the Dark side could fail, and he...he was looking out for us." Draco closed his eyes, feeling the same anger inside of him, and concentrated on Hermione's heart beat again. Her hands were massaging his back now, and his desire for her started to grow.

"When he died, as you said before, my inheritance should have become active. That's why we came back to London finally. We need that money, and anything the Manor has, because I want..." Draco breathed in her scent, "I want to start over. Mother, she still can't let go that our family name should be respected and honored. She cannot see that what her husband did was wrong. But I can, ever since the night on that tower...I realized I couldn't be my father...and I didn't want to be."

Draco swallowed, and kissed her chest slowly. Her breathing was slow and even, and it was lulling Draco back to sleep, fading his anger.

"My inheritance, I wouldn't take it. I wouldn't. But I need it, I want to start over. Maybe...maybe give the Malfoy name something good again."

Hermione's hands paused and slowly he felt her sitting up. following her lead, he knelt on the bedcovers, and Hermione kneeled in front of him, wrapping her arms around him. Draco smiled into her shoulder, it must have been hard for her to not say anything, not to argue or find a loophole. He was sure she was already planning something, but for right now, at least, she was silent. And she hadn't pushed him to finish, and Draco wasn't sure yet if he could tell her the specifics of the Ministry's abuse. That wasn't bedroom talk.

Smiling suddenly Draco kissed her shoulder, letting his hands trail down her back, making Hermione shiver.

"I think that has been enough talking for one day." He whispered, "Now what can we do before Michelle calls back?"

Hermione giggled, and pulled him down on top of her, "What did you have in mind?"

Draco smiled when she gasped as his hands cupped her breasts, "Lets see if the rumors about Gryffindor women were true."

Pulling his face to hers she kissed him fiercely, biting his lip, "I don't know, Slytherin, think you can handle it?" Then Hermione rolled them over, grinning wickedly.

Draco smirked, "Try me."


	18. Of muggle friends and making it count

It was almost an hour later when Hermione and Draco finally agreed they needed to get out of bed. The first thing they did was eat a very late brunch, consisting of biscuits, tea and leftovers from a muggle casserole dish. Then Hermione snapped into her normal self, and ran around the apartment, organizing, cleaning and writing off a hasty letter to the Ministry as to why she couldn't come in today.

Draco hadn't moved from the kitchen table, tracing the burnt mark on the table with his finger, a feint smile on his lips as he watched her;

"Hermione, you are the last person who needs to apologize for not coming in one day. Honestly."

She glanced at him from the common-room, as she straightened the room herself. Draco wondered if he should offer his wand.

"Draco, I am the Head of the Department, it looks terrible if I don't keep the same standards as my employees."

He rolled his eyes, and finished his tea, "I'm the one who should be worried over their job."

Hermione glanced up, pausing in her folding of the sofa blanket, "Oh, no! Do you think you will be alright?"

"I'll be fine, Hermione," Draco shook his head, "I deserve a sick day as much as you do."

Hermione studied him for a moment, then continued her attack on the common-room.

"May I ask what you are doing?"

She tucked a strand of wild hair behind her ear, "Michelle's coming over for a late lunch. I completely forgot."

Draco paused, that was not what he had been hoping to hear. He wanted just him and Hermione alone today, before entering back into their separate worlds tomorrow. But he kept his voice casual, lest Hermione give him that unnerving gaze that had already caused him to spill his guts once today.

"On a day you were supposed to be working?"

"Well, actually," Hermione turned slightly pink," I was going to leave work early."

Draco shook his head, "What would your employees think? Leaving for a personal lunch..."

She glared at him.

"Here," Draco waved his wand, and the common room straightened itself out, "Now it's clean."

Hermione gave a glance around the room, as if expecting magic to suddenly have not tidied up properly, then she smiled, "Thanks."

"Now will you come over here, please?"

She nodded, and came back to the kitchen, hugging his shoulders, "Sorry."

Draco smirked, "Crazy witch. It's not like Michelle hasn't been here before."

Hermione sighed, "I know...I don't know what I'm doing."

"I'll clean the kitchen, go take a shower."

In response Hermione kissed his neck, and suddenly Draco had only one thing on my mind. Hermione seemed to read his thoughts, for she paused, and leaning over captured his mouth in a long kiss. Then she pulled away, flushed, and with a smile went to take a shower. Sighing Draco stood, and waved his wand at the mess of food and dishes. Taking a last sip of tea, Draco floated that into the sink as well. Then, glancing at the burned table top, turned and headed down the hall.

Draco smiled as he passed the bathroom, hearing the shower running. He ignored the catcalls from Nicholas Flammel, and the knowing look that Anne Bolyen gave him. Draco paused at the end of the hallway, looking between both rooms, then turned into his. Sitting on his bed, he sighed, glancing at his reflection. Despite his lack of sleep Draco looked more awake then ever, and that also made him smile. He stared at his bare feet next, and his dress pants and shirt that he had put on for breakfast, they were wrinkled from laying on the floor. Standing up, he went to his closet and slipped off his dirty clothes, pulling on his dressing gown. He needed a shower also, especially if he would have to socialize with Michelle.

Then he heard it, that damn muggle phone ringing. Tying his dressing robe around his waist, Draco glanced out his door, and saw the bathroom door still closed. Crap. 20 Galleons said it was Michelle again.

He practically ran into Hermione's room, and pulled her phone out of the purse. it was glowing and screeching, and Draco hastily pushed a button. Nothing. He tried again.

"Hello?"

Draco shoved the thing next to his ear, like he had seen Hermione do, "Hello?" It was definitely Michelle's voice coming out of the box.

"...Hi." Draco tried.

There was a pause, then, "Draco?"

He nodded, then after a moment, realized he had to actually answer, "Yes."

"Oh, Hey," Michelle replied, "Um, where's my girl at?"

Draco glanced at the doorway, "She's in the shower."

"So she didn't forget? Cause she didn't answer her phone earlier."

"Um, no she didn't forget. She..." Draco tried to think of a reason. But Michelle cut him off;

"Wait, what are you doing home? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Michelle sounded a bit too like Pansy, right then. Or even like Drex, (correctly) reading too far into the conversation.

"Um," Draco swallowed, "I'm sick."

Michelle groaned, "Oh Damn, you're kidding? Does Hermione have it? 'Cause I really can't catch anything right now. And I'm already half way there...are you contagious?"

Draco smiled to himself, "I think Hermione gave it to me."

Michelle sighed into the phone, a rather unpleasant sound, "Perfect. That's not what I need right now..."

Draco saw his chance, "Are you still gonna come?"

He could practically see Michelle raise her eyebrows and flip her hair while she answered, "Of course I am. I did not just spend an hour on the Tube just to go back. I'll just have to risk it."

Draco didn't respond, but Michelle didn't seem to notice.

"Well, Darling, tell Hermione I will be there in 30 minutes so everything better be sterilized."

"Oh, sure," Draco said, more to himself.

"Ciao!"

Draco finally took the muggle box from his ear, and stared at it. Setting it back in her purse, he stared at his surroundings. He would worry about Michelle later. Since last night, when she had told him about her...trauma, the state of her room made a lot more sense. The blank walls, and empty feeling of the room, it was her hole to hide away in. Besides for the pile of books next to the bed, and the dresser on the outside wall overflowing with muggle clothes, the room had no markings of Hermione Granger.  
"Hey," Draco looked up and saw Hermione in her dressing robe, rubbing her hair with a towel, smiling at him in the doorway, "What you doing?"

Draco glanced at her purse, " Michelle called again."

Hermione grinned playfully, "You answered it?"

"Yes, I did."

Her smile grew, "Good job."

Draco glared at her, "Well, she's still coming. And will be here in about half an hour." He purposefully left out the part of their "sickness".

"OK, good." Hermione set her towel on a hook on the back of her door, then turned slowly back to Draco, looking him up and down. Draco swallowed at the expression on her face. She tiptoed over to him, and Draco got a whiff of her shampoo, then she smiled, looking rather devious.

"What?" Draco whispered, hoping she was about to say what he wanted her to say.

She bit her lip, "Nothing, I just realized that Michelle coming over really cuts our time in half."

"Oh?" Draco watched her.

"So, "She reached over and silently untied his dressing gown, "We will have to make this count."

Draco grinned, and let Hermione push him back onto the bed, eagerly slipping off his dressing gown, and watching as she took off hers. This was fine with him. Hermione had certainly given him a sickness, alright.


	19. Of showers and payback

**SO** sorry this took so long! Midterms seemed to come out of nowhere, as did writers block… I realize this is kind of left at a cliff hanger but it will be updated much sooner, I promise! (or should I solemnly swear?) lol. Enjoy, and I 3 reviews

When the sound of knocking on the door went from polite to furious, Draco finally released Hermione from his arms and watched her morph into full panic mode. She stood naked and glorious before him, her mind at full speed, muttering under her breath and waving her wand around like a baton. Not moving from her bed, Draco heard the kitchen cleaning itself, grabbed his clothes as they flew in from his room, and finally watched Hermione magic on clean clothes and dry her hair.

"Get dressed," she grinned at him, "Now," and she flew out of the room. Moments later Draco heard the loud (clearly annoyed) voice of Michelle enter the flat, and Draco sighed, pulling on yesterday's clothes. Then with a sigh, he went down the hall.

"No, no, no! No hug! After keeping me waiting outside you honestly think you deserve a hug?" Michelle came into view as Draco peeked slowly into the kitchen, "And I don't want to catch whatever you have. I hope you disinfected everything, otherwise we're going out to eat."

"What?" asked a very confused, but amused, Hermione.

"I am not catching whatever got you and Draco sick, no, no. And if you're contagious we are rescheduling right now."

Hermione glanced at her muggle friend, "Contagious?"

"Draco said he caught it from you," Michelle paused, "Figures, the healthy one's are always the carriers..."

"Oh, he said that did he?" Hermione's voice caught even Michelle's attention. The two friends glanced at each other, speaking the scary telepathic girl-speak that Draco would never understand. Clearing his throat, he stepped into the kitchen.

"Sup? Draco," Michelle glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. He nodded at her, deciding to keep his response as normal as possible.

"Draco, you better go take a shower. Don't want that cold of yours to get any worse." Hermione smiled at him, but he saw the glint in her eye, and grinned innocently.

"I was about to," Draco answered smoothly, "Nice to see you again Michelle."

"Yeah, yeah," Michelle nodded, "Now you're decent to me, trying to get me sick, are you? Shoo fly, don't come near me."

Hermione laughed under her breath, and shot Draco a Slytherin worthy smirk, before turning back to her friend.

"Well," Hermione answered, "I'm not contagious, and if I recall it was Draco who brought this home. So we will stay far away from him."

"Good," Michelle nodded, finally slipping off her sweater and scarf, "It's a girls lunch anyway."

Seeing it as his cue, Draco left the kitchen and went to shower.

"God, that boy looks good even when he's ill." He head Michelle comment, following moments later with laughter from both girls. Grinning he shut the bathroom door and turned the shower on. Stepping out of his dirty clothes, Draco gave one last glance at himself in the fogging mirror. His pale skin seemed to glow under the harsh muggle lighting, clashing with the dark ugly memory tattooed on his inner arm. Draco glanced at it warily, this was why he preferred long sleeves, and then he wouldn't have to be reminded. Sure, it was faded now, but it was never going to go away. Just like Hermione's purple bruise, he remembered, they were both scared with the past.

But just like last night when he had delicately pampered and kissed her stomach, Hermione had returned the favor. At one point during the night, both of them sleepy and content, she had done the most erotic yet innocent thing. Draco closed his eyes as he remembered her hands slowly taking his arm, and bringing it to her lips. Draco had hesitated, seeing what she was trying to do, but Hermione wouldn't let go. Carefully she let her lips trail the faded dark mark of another world, covering it with her mouth, as if trying to suck the poison from his skin. And yet, as moving as it was, Draco had to look away. He couldn't watch Hermione be in the same view as that awful reminder. They were polar opposites.

It seemed like forever, but Draco slowly opened his eyes, realizing that her methodical kisses were lulling him to sleep. When her hands reached over, Draco let his head be pulled towards hers, and they kissed slowly and tiredly. She released his arm only to wipe off the unwilling tears that had blurred his eyes. Her fingers traced his face, and he breathed in slowly. Pulling her close, Draco had wrapped her into his arms, wanting her body to sink into his skin, wanting to never have to release her again. And so they had fallen asleep like that. And Draco realized now that he had been healed by her, every moment they spent together she healed him. Was he returning the favor?

Draco shook his head, waking from his trans-like stance in front of the mirror. Sighing, he stepped into the shower, wondering just how long he had actually been lost in thought. Standing under the hot stream of water, he remembered Hermione's fingers and lips teasing and taunting all of his body. Sighing, he fought back the initial fear that had kept him in the dark until now. The thought that this wouldn't work.

They had a history, and not the best one. Draco gritted his teeth at his father. He had only been a child then, wanting to be just like his all powerful father, and besides that hero Potter, Granger had never caught his interest. It had just been her association with scarhead, and later on her overshadowing brilliance. But nonetheless, Draco realized, as he scrubbed his head with shampoo, he had been quite a shit back at Hogwarts. How could she just look past that, the media certainly wouldn't.

"No," Hermione had whispered to him last night, "They are not apart of this. They are not in this relationship. Only you and me. We need to worry about us before we can worry about the media. Deal?"

She had quieted him then, but Draco had seen it on her face too, that this perfect bubble of happiness they had just found might soon end. So they just held each.

Draco stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel and running it over his blond hair. Then wrapping it around his middle he looked around for his wand. Shit. It was still in his room, even his dressing robe was on Granger's floor. He rolled his eyes, this would happen. Opening the door of the bathroom, he glanced down the hallway, and heard the female voices coming from the common room. With a quick debate he decided to get his dressing gown in her room, and shivering slightly, ducked in her door. There on the floor it lay crumpled, and grinning Draco reached for it, only to have it fly out of his grasp out the door and down the hallway.

For a second his danger instincts took over, and he stood up straight listening for anyone in the room. Wishing he had his wand, Draco turned and left her room and ran to his, only to have his door shut and lock before him. Draco stared at it, then back at Hermione's door which seemed to close as soon as his eyes set on it, following with the bathroom door. This could not be happening; Draco stared wildly around, what the hell? Straightening the towel around his waist, he heard Hermione laugh. From far down in the common room, he heard her laugh suddenly.

Hermione. Draco grinned despite his predicament, so this is how she wanted to play? Alright then. He hadn't been put in Slytherin for nothing.


	20. Of towels and muggle schools

Draco was tempted to try the doorknobs one more time, but seeing at what Hermione had already pulled, there was a very good chance he might end up glued to a doorknob or something. With a hesitant breath, Draco straightened his damp hair, repositioned his towel around his waist and headed down the hallway. Even before the kitchen he could hear their voices, and Draco paused, this was going to be difficult seeing as Michelle was a muggle.  
But if they were as good friends as he thought, why shouldn't Michelle find out about Hermione's secret? Friends didn't lie to each other, after all. Draco grinned, time to make his entrance.

Casually walking into the kitchen, Draco didn't even glance at the girls at the table, just went right towards the refrigerator. He grinned to himself as their conversation quieted, and playing along Draco pulled out the orange juice and took a good long drink. Finishing he put the carton back in the refrigerator, and continued digging around, giving himself a point when Michelle giggled. Hermione was silent, which meant she was fuming, or plotting.

With a sigh, Draco turned, "Hermione, there's nothing to eat."

He gave a slight flex of his arms, and met Hermione's glare straight on.

"Don't mind if I join, do you?"

Finally Michelle, who had been getting an eyeful, came back to reality, "Not that I particularly mind, but don't you have clothes you could possibly put on?"

Draco grabbed a plate from the cupboard and sat down, "What does that have to do with my eating habits?"

Michelle blinked at him, smiling coolly, "Nothing. But it can't be helping your cold."

Grinning, Draco started making himself a sandwich, "Oh, well, I find clothes so constricting. And so when I do wear clothes it seems like they don't stay on very long...they just fly away from me." He caught Hermione's eye as he said this.

Michelle glanced at him then to Hermione, who was still silent. Michelle seemed unsure if she should laugh or not.

"So, Michelle, tell me about yourself," Draco grinned at her, pointedly avoiding the witch across from him.

Michelle blinked at him, suppressing a grin, "Alright. What do you want to know?"

"How you and Hermione met, you've been friends for a while?"

Hermione shifted in her chair, causing both Hermione and Draco to glance at her.

"Um...We met in grade school, because we both lived in the same small town outside of London."

Draco nodded, though he had no idea what grade school meant.

"Oh, so what did you do after "grade school"?"

"I went to a boarding school in the south, and we kept in touch through letters and such, and we always hung out during the summer."

"Not always," Hermione interrupted, "You went to America most summers."

Michelle nodded in remembrance, "Yes, but not the whole summer."

The two girls smiled at each other, and Draco gave a point to Hermione for somewhat taking over the conversation.

"You've been to America?"

Michelle nodded, "Yes, My father taught at several universities. And I think, as I got older, he wanted me to look into the universities there. But I already knew I was done with schooling altogether."

Draco nodded, still unsure what universities were, muggle's certainly has a lot of schools.

"What about you?" Michelle asked, and Draco grinned.

"I went to the same school as Hermione."

"You didn't go on to university either?"

Draco froze, and it was Hermione that rescued him, "No, he didn't."

Michelle nodded, "That's what I never understood Hermione, why didn't you go on to University? I'm sure Oxford or Cambridge would have fallen over themselves to have you."

"There were others things I needed to do first..." Hermione nodded slowly to herself, and Draco met her eye, "needed to do" was an understatement. She practically saved the whole wizarding and muggle world.

If Michelle noticed the glance between the two flatmates, she was quiet about it.

Michelle turned on Draco, "How did you know Hermione, you guys were friends?"

Hermione snorted, and Draco glared at her, "No, actually."

"Really?" Michelle glanced at them both.

"He was a bit of a...pompous jerk.'

Draco grudgingly gave her another point, "Well, your little Golden Trio was always getting all the attention."

"Oh poor little Slytherin, not getting patted on the head for being a rich little snob."

"What about you,? Always having to be the best in every class, Miss "brightest witch of our age.'"

"What?" Michelle's voice brought both of them back to the present, and Draco gave himself a point for an excellently planned battle of wits.

"Nothing," Hermione shook her head, ignoring Michelle's pointed glance.

"Huh," Michelle seemed unconvinced.

"Draco, shouldn't you be, I don't know, contacting your mother?" Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, and Draco grudgingly gave her 1 point, he had yet to settle that issue.

Draco smiled at her, and took a bite of his sandwich, "I will, I will. But we have a guest that would be rude," he nodded at Michelle, who meanwhile had been smiling as she watched this conversation unfold. Ha, another point for him.

"No, I have a guest," Hermione corrected, "You are not even properly dressed, I am sure your mother raised you better."

Setting down the sandwich Draco glanced at his forearm, suddenly realizing that the faded Mark was clear for all to see. The game was over, and Draco stood quickly, anxious to leave.

"What?" Michelle asked, she had spotted the Mark when Draco reacted. She glanced between the two, well aware of the sudden coldness that had entered the room.

"Nothing," Hermione swallowed, eyes never leaving Draco's face. Repositioning his towel he hid his left arm from Michelle, and stood next to Hermione's chair.

"Unlock my room please." Draco didn't bother to be subtle. Hermione glanced at Michelle, then nodded. Standing she led Draco down the hall, and once out of sight pulled her wand from her shirt sleeve. With a quick wave Draco heard the doors unlock, and immediately turned, only to be stopped by Hermione's hand on his arm. Her fingers grasped the very spot where the Dark Mark lay.

"Are you alright?"

Draco couldn't look at her, such a mixture of emotions were swimming around his body.

"Draco?" her voice was softer, and Draco cringed at how it made his knees buckle.

"Yes," He whispered through clenched teeth, "I'm fine."

He heard her exhale, and finally her fingers released him, and he walked slowly to his room. Once inside, he threw the door closed, and grabbed his wand, the towel falling uselessly to the ground. Why did this always happen? Why did his past never seem to leave him be? Flinging his closet open Draco magicked on a fresh outfit, clenching his wand tightly. Why did it even matter? Michelle was a muggle, she had no idea what the Mark meant, what it represented. Yet, Draco was still angry. He closed his eyes and was instantly transferred back to Malfoy Manor nearly six years ago. He had yet to tell Hermione about the span of his life that she had only caught a glimpse of on that fateful day.

The Dark Lord had been using Malfoy Manor as a base for months, Death Eaters constantly streaming in and out, countless murders and tortures happening on Malfoy property. He and his parents and been brushed aside, mocked and ridiculed in their own home. Draco had never been able to get a full nights sleep, and he had almost forgotten what the outdoors were like. What the outside world looked like...and then they had showed up. The three people Draco had never been happier to see, and, yes, of course he had recognized them. Even in their filthy ragged clothes, and Potter strangely puffy, he had known them. Even now though he wasn't sure what made him say it, what made him pretend to doubt their identity, perhaps he had finally realized what they were doing. Perhaps he had finally understood what Dumbledore had said to him...

Draco was knocked down to the floor, awaking from his nightmare, staring up at a terrified witch. For a moment Draco saw her lips move, but couldn't here her voice. Then, just like that weird muggle box in the common room, everything came alive. Draco was kneeling in his closet, and Hermione was yelling at him.

"What in the bloody hell where you trying to do?" She yelled, and with a wave his wand came flying into her open palm, "Knock the whole place down?"

Draco stared at her, "What?"

"You...you disappeared into your room and all of a sudden the whole place was shaking," Hermione knelt in front of him, her voice concerned, "What were you doing?"

He looked away. Then Draco heard the wands fall to the floor, and Hermione was grasping his clenched hands. They stared at each other silently, and Draco realized he was exhausted and shaking.

"Sorry." He whispered, and slowly pulled her into his arms. Hermione was silent as she let herself be pulled into him, thankfully not pressing the issue. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her scent, reminding himself again that the war was over. But that was a lie, and just like the woman in his arms, their battle scars were constant reminders of that Dark time. He needed to put an end to it, for real, this time.


	21. Of laws and loopholes

Wordlessly Hermione pulled Draco to his feet, and out of the closet. He looked around his room, everything was lying on the floor, and the far wall had an enormous crack. She had been serious; Draco had let his magic escape in his frustration. But Hermione just held his hand, and waving her wand they watched everything fly back to its proper place. The wall melted back into a smooth surface, and she smiled at him, reassuringly.

"What happened to Michelle?"

Hermione held his hand tighter as they left his room, silently treading down the hallway.

"I sent her home."

Once in the kitchen Draco fell into the empty seat across from Hermione, "Did she notice?"

Hermione hid a smile, "You mean when the whole building started shaking and the furniture started floating? Yeah, she noticed."

Draco put his head in his hands, suddenly exhausted, "Sorry."

"That's alright, I modified her memory and everyone else in the building so..."

Draco looked up, "You modified every one's memory?"

Hermione nodded, "Well unless you wanted the ministry snooping around here, and besides I had to restabilize the building."

"That takes really powerful magic, Hermione. There are over 100 people in this building!"

Hermione blushed, but nodded, "Yes, well, you managed to crack the foundation. That is also powerful magic..." She studied him, "Why did you lose control, Draco?"

He licked his lips, which were now dry, "I don't really know really..."

Hermione gave him that same glare, the one that made her infamous in the ministry.

Draco closed his eyes, feeling shaken. If the ministry had found out that he had lost control of his magic around muggles there would be no chance for him. He needed to get his inheritance, he needed to prove to himself, and the whole wizarding world, that the Malfoy family was a name worth respecting. If he ever wanted to stop hiding he would have to stop blaming himself, stop focusing on the past, and start looking towards a possible future.

"Was it the Dark Mark?" Hermione finally spoke, "Because Michelle doesn't..."

"I know, I know," Draco cut her off, voice harsher then he meant, "It just sunk in again...that this...thing prevents me from having a normal life."

Hermione just stared at him," Draco, I said we will figure out your inheritance. You will have a normal life again."

"Will you help me?" Draco whispered, not daring to look into her eyes.

Hermione froze, not bothering to hide her shock, when Draco slowly met her eyes.

She swallowed, reaching over and taking his cold hands, "You know I will."

"Thank you..." Draco gripped her hand, pulling her closer, needing to breathe in her scent. She rested her head on his chest with a small smile. For a moment they sat there in silence, and Draco felt his breathing even out, the exhaustion from the lack of magic, beginning to fade.

"So what do you want to do now?" Hermione's voice interrupted his thoughts, and despite how he felt Draco grinned.

"What was your idea?" Draco whispered into her hair.

Hermione immediately sat up, eyes bright, "From what I have been researching, the wizarding laws have never been officially changed. They denied you your inheritance, based on your father..."

"And myself..."

Hermione ignored him, "...being a Death Eater, which supposedly qualifies under the Malicious Wizard decree of 1666, where it was decided that a wizard who had committed a foul enough crime, mass murder of muggles, or an unforgivable used repeatedly on an individual until death, and so forth would have an added punishment...which came about because of the wizard Dollander Neco, who set fire to a muggle barn which then spread to consume most of London, which instead of then putting out, he decided to watch from his broomstick..."

Draco grabbed her hand, "Hermione."

She glanced at him surprised, then blushed, "Sorry, anyway, the Decree of 1666 stated the accused would then have all of their assets taken and distributed to the victim, or victims family. Depending on the causality rate, and after the appropriate punishment decreed, and a hearing by the Wizengamot..." the accused would then have his assets valued then divided..."

Draco sighed, "What does that have to do with me?"

Hermione glanced at him, "I was getting to that, these laws, have never been extensively updated, and considering the time period it was originally made, leave large loop holes I'm sure the ministry will not like to be reminded of."

Draco suddenly felt hopeful, "And those are?"

"Well, if you recall, the Underage Wizarding act is a comparatively recent decision by wizarding standards, that forgives underage wizards who accidentally expose themselves to muggles, or, because of uncontrolled magic cause minor accidents..."

"Hermione..." Draco sighed.

She paused, looking guilty, "Sorry. But what I am trying to say is that we can use the Underage Wizarding act to our advantage. It is the loophole we need to expose the Ministry's unfair usage of your money and estate."

Draco paused, "How?"

"You were accused by the standards of the Malicious Wizard Decree of 1666, and that law applied only to the most common accusers of the day, wizards. Not only were witches excluded," Hermione stared at Draco, "But it also leaves out "those who have only recently been given a wand"."

Draco stared at her, processing her words, "You're saying that because I was underage I cannot be subject to that Decree?"

Hermione nodded, eyes bright.

Draco ran his hands through his hair, "But I participated in the final battle Hermione, and by then I had turned 17..."

Hermione only grinned, "But that is not what you were punished for, was it? Think back to the Death Eater Trials."

"I was charged for the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore..."

"Yes," Hermione nodded, "But you didn't murder him. Harry testified on record that you were coerced into becoming a Death Eater, as punishment for your fathers mistakes. He said you lowered your wand..."

Draco looked away, "I remember, Hermione, but what are you saying?

"They accused you as an adult wizard, a full Death Eater, despite the evidence that you were a decoy of Voldemort's and that you were underage when it happened..."

"And the law is based on when the crime was committed, and I was still underage!" Draco practically leaped from the couch, " Therefore I can get my inheritance!"

Hermione nodded seriously, then broke into a smile, "Yes, you were underage, therefore not eligible to be a Death Eater, which the courts already acknowledged by not sending you to Azkaban. So while the Ministry can still keep all of your fathers property under the Decree of 1666, they cannot keep your inheritance, for the law of inheritance dates further back then the Decree..."

Draco swept Hermione off the couch, and crushed his body to hers, locking their lips together.

"You...are completely... and utterly...amazing..." Draco kissed her face and neck furiously, wanting to dance around the room with Hermione, then throw her back on the couch and make passionate love to her.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, and Draco paused in ravishing her neck, looking at a suddenly shy and pink witch.

Smiling he took her face in his hands, pressing their faces together, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

Draco felt her skin grow hot under his hands, "We haven't won yet."

"But this is more of a chance then I've had in years."

Hermione smiled, "I want to clear your name too, you know."

Draco paused, then kissed her again, nice and slow, "What can I do to help you?"

In response he felt her hands creep up under his shirt and wrap around him, "Just hold me," She whispered.

Draco smiled.

Once again, I apologize this took so long, but I really wanted to get the story clear in this chapter, and the logistics of wizarding law is hard to do...Hope it makes sense. Enjoy and review, por favor!


	22. Of confessions and a foreseeable hope

- **So,** this chapter is a double feature. Enjoy!

Draco had not slept at all, and that was entirely the fault of the witch beside him, Hermione Granger. She, however, had quickly fallen into a deep sleep, her breathing evening out and her face softening into pure relaxation. Draco had watched her for some time, brushing hair from her face, and keeping the blankets around her naked form. There had been a tightening in his chest the whole day, after Hermione had revealed the loop hole that might just save his future, yet, he was unsure of what to call the feeling.

He was no love sick muggle character, he was a wizard, and a damn good one. Yet, when he was around Hermione, someone else came out of his body. Draco knew fully that he acted like a fool before her, yet she still accepted him. The feeling in his chest only strengthened, and he sighed. Draco didn't want to cast that revealing charm so soon, he would not simply label this thing between them. It was simply perfect timing, Draco had whispered to himself, staring down at the sleeping form of Hermione Granger. She had arrived with all the answers, right when he had given up hope that his life would ever look bright again.

Life had never worked out that way for him, chances did not simply arrive at once, the silver lining was, more often than not, made of lead. He had been naive as a boy, blindly following his father, and yet, upon realizing that mistake, he hadn't changed. Draco had nearly had a panic attack when he had looked in the mirror and seen his father staring back. The stain of ink upon his forearm was proof enough what fear, pride and cockiness did when combined together. Draco had never remembered his father as anything but a proud and loyal man. Yet the man had been consumed with his image, consumed with playing the right cards. Only when the final battle had come around, Lucius had seen fault in his choices. Draco had never been so glad to see his parents come to his side during that horrible night. But by then it had been too late, and Lucuis had wasted away the remainder of his life in Askaban. Draco would not let that be his fate.

It had been his mothers doing, while they had traveled the globe in shame, that made Draco look back at his father. The anger towards his father had made Draco question everything, and more than once he had attempted to remove the Dark Mark from his skin. His mother had saved his life at one time, when Draco had attempted to remove his whole arm. The anger he had felt towards his father, the betrayal and loss of respect, radiated from Draco. His mother, however, had been the barrier. She had let Draco vent, than calmly explained the side of Lucius that few had ever seen. If his father had not cared why had he placed so much money into foreign banks? Her voice had broken through Draco's feeling of hurt and betrayal, it had healed him.

Now, after his fathers death, he had finally pieced together everything that Dumbledore had told him, and not told him, that night on the tower. Draco could see his father as imperfect, and it was not shameful, it was merely human.

Draco was the head of the Malfoy family now, and it was time he acted like it. If his father had taught him nothing else, it was to give your duties the full attention they deserved. So Draco would stop hiding, and finally reclaim his inheritance.

It was decided then, Draco would speak to his mother after work. He needed to face the many truths she had made him again try to face. He also needed to discuss Hermione. While Draco hesitated to think of a future with Hermione, a future was something he had rarely thought of at all anymore, he wanted to try. And Narcissa, though she would surely be displeased by Hermione's blood status, would recognize the strength and perseverance that made Hermione. She had to recognize that, she just had to be able to see what a unique witch Hermione was.

That decided Draco rolled over and climbed out of bed, leaving Hermione to sleep for a few more minutes. Silently he left her barren room and crossed to his, and grabbing clothes headed to the shower. Once under the faucet he tried to focus on work, after all he and Hermione had missed a whole day, not that he regretted it at all.

Stepping out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around himself than dried the rest of his body with the wand. When a knock sounded on the door, Draco nearly fell over, he had still been lost in his thoughts.

"May I come in?" Hermione's voice was soft, and Draco straightened, staring at his face in the mirror, trying to calm his beating heart.

"Yeah," Draco finally answered, and watcher her slowly slink into the bathroom. She smiled at him, her expression slightly tired, and gently wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You showered without me?" Hermione whispered, and Draco grinned.

"I can take another."

With that Hermione laughed and pushed away from him, "Sorry, but than we would really be late for work. Now get out."

Draco smiled, and let himself be pushed out into the hall.

Fifteen minutes later Draco stood in the kitchen, preparing tea, when Hermione finally entered. She smiled, though he could tell her work persona had overcome her.

When he sat down in his normal spot, Hermione giggled suddenly.

"What is so funny?"

Hermione took a hasty sip of tea, "Was it really only yesterday you were sitting there in a towel?"

Draco looked away grinning, "You locked me out! What was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know," Hermione conceided, "But I certainly was not expecting that."

Draco took a bite of toast, playful glaring at her, almost positive they had reverted back to school year flirting.

Swallowing, he leaned forward, "After work I am going to visit my mother."

"Oh?" Hermione paused.

"Yes, and I will fill her in on the loop hole you found and..."

Draco faltered, and Hermione met his eye knowingly.

"We don't need to say anything yet, to anyone. Only if you think it is the right thing to do. After all we are the two here, no one else is apart of this. Just...when it comes to the topic of the pant-less muggle girl, tread carefully."

He nodded, smiling, "I will," Then he paused, "It's just frustrating. I don't want to hide anymore. Just the media..."

At that Hermione closed her eyes, "Yes, there will be no easy way around that one."

Draco watched her, and slowly reached across the table and took her hand. Hermione smiled, than glanced behind him;

"Oh my, Draco, we are going to be late!"

Standing Draco dropped her hand, and with both wands out, the breakfast was cleared away.

Turning towards the entrance, Draco pulled Hermione into a long kiss. When they finally parted both were breathless. Hermione recovered first and playfully poked him in the ribs, "We are really going to be late!" Then, grabbing his hand pulled Draco out the front door.

Once in the elevator Draco attacked again, determined to get as much of Hermione as possible, since once in the wizarding world, they would be separate beings. Pressing her against the elevators mirrored walls, Draco pressed his body into hers. Hermione moaned in response, and Draco shivered at the sound. They were interrupted, however, when the doors opened to let in two overly dressed old ladies. They nodded briskly to the young couple, and after that Hermione swatted Draco's hands away, blushing furiously.

The doors opened finally into the main Lobby, and Draco and Hermione paused once outside the front doors.

"I'll go first, " Hermione whispered, meeting his eye slowly. Draco nodded, this was what they had to do, for now.

Grinning, Hermione waved her arm for a taxi, "I suppose I will be home before you... Good luck."

Draco nodded, and despite the open surroundings, he pulled her into a last kiss before turning and walking towards Diagon Alley.

Drex had badgered Draco the whole afternoon about his apparent "sick day", and although Draco would never admit it to him, Drex was right on the mark. He had spent all day in bed with a girl. When Draco had finally entered the last bit of parchment into the magical files, he had wordlessly left the office, his mind diving from anxiety to the nearing conversation with his mother, to the witch waiting for him at home.

He hardly noticed when a gaggle of reporters came swarming past him, following the head of the Auror department, Harry Potter. Harry, however, had caught his eye, and nodded, and Draco, though surprised, managed a polite nod in return. Then he sped off before the reporters noticed the proximity of the two "arch enemies". Taking one last deep breath, Draco apparated to the magical dwelling his mother resided in.

Despite the strong protection spells about the place, the door opened at his touch, and Draco let himself in. Automatically he cracked his neck, and after a quick glance around the empty common room, hung up his robe and went to sit.

Swallowing, Draco, ran over his speech once again, knowing it would be lucky if his mother let him explain himself at all. Nonetheless, Draco did his best to look calm and collected when his mother finally opened the door.

"Draco," His mother called out, equally as calm as he, "What a surprise."

Standing as his mother entered the room, he nodded, and went to kiss her cheek. His mouth opened to speak, but already his mother had beaten him to it, "Draco, would you care for some tea?"

"Yes, mother, thank you." Draco recovered, and sat down only after his mother had been seated in her chair, wand put away after summoning tea. Carefully she poured the steaming brew into two dainty cups, and offered one to Draco. Feeling the seconds begin to slow, Draco nodded in thanks and set the hot tea in front of him.

"I want to first apologize for not responding or visiting in so long."

Narcissa Malfoy nodded, smiling pleasantly. Then she ever so subtly cocked her head to the side and waited.

"I do, however, have good news..."

Narcissa interrupted him, "I do hope it does not have to do with that muggle girl in your flat."

Draco paused, and glanced at his tea, he had hoped to deal with that after the good news. Glancing at his mother slowly, she pursed her lips, "I do not mind that you have found someone to spend time with, however," Narcissa tucked a strand of silver hair behind an ear," I do hope you remember that in wizarding society it is not going to be acceptable."

Rolling his eyes, Draco took the bait, "In wizarding society? Mother, you know as well as I, the wizarding society you refer to no longer exists, the only purebloods that are held in esteem anymore are the Weasley clan. But that is why I came here today, I hope to finally end the mark on our family name..." then, as an afterthought, Draco added, "And besides, no matter what direction my personal life takes, the media would still find fault in it. I do not, then, need your criticism as well."

His mother nodded slowly, then, "So this is serous then? That girl in your flat."

Draco ran his hand through his hair, that would be the part his mother focused on.

With a silent apology to Hermione, Draco looked his mother in the eye, "She is not just a girl, mother. And yes, it is serious."

"How long as she been living with you?"

Narcissa continued on, misinterpreting the look from her son.

"I mean, she seemed quite...at home, when I entered your flat that day. I only wonder how your flatmate feels about this."

Draco opened his mouth slowly, then had to swallow and try again.

"It cannot be easy after all, having a muggle...acquaintance in a wizards flat."

"She is not a muggle, mother..."

Narcissa glanced at him over her cup of tea, "Oh?  
"She is a witch...and a very good one."

Narcissa nodded, her demeanor suddenly brighter, "I see. Well then, that changes things. And you two are quite serious?"

Smiling faintly, Draco nodded in response. His mother smiled at her son, and took another sip of tea.

"Actually, I do not know what I would do without her...She has really helped me move forward in life. And I see us going in a very good direction."

Draco clamped his mouth shut, unaware of his mothers approving look, the statement having slipped from him. With a calming breath, he thought over what he had just admitted. Was that true? Was Hermione offering him a future?

"That is excellent, son. I am very pleased for you. I have only been hoping for something like this for you."

Draco nodded mutely, and took a sip of tea, which was now only luke warm. That confession was extremely frightening and yet, heart warming. Exactly the way Hermione was, terrifying yet hopeful, all at once.

Draco was unaware of his mothers smile, and was once again caught off guard.

"You also said you came here to discuss something pertaining to the media?"

"No, not at all," Draco made himself focus, "It is about my inheritance."

"Oh," His mother nodded, "Then you did receive my letter."

"Not exactly...it accidentally got burned before I could read it." Draco took another sip of tea.

"Well, then, I will simply tell you. The Ministry contacted me to inform me that the 6 month trial period after your fathers death will soon be coming to a close. So if you want to petition them for your inheritance, then it must be in the next two months. I still believe you should."

Draco nodded, "I agree mother, and as it turns out, I have the law on my side."

The cool composure of his mother slipped, and Draco saw relief flood her face as she leaned toward her son.

"Do tell."


	23. Of small talk and starting anew

-**So**, this chapter had a lot of dialogue, but I felt like I needed to explain some things, and I tried to keep it interesting. But I promise this leads to a really exciting chapter!

As always, I love reviews!

…

Draco was sure he had told his mother everything that Hermione had brilliantly discovered about the inheritance loophole, but when all had been said it seemed rather straightforward. He felt as though he should been able to make sense of that glitch in the wizarding laws himself. It seemed too easy.

Nonetheless he had not seen his mother that happy in a very long time. They had decided that a lawyer would be necessary, and that they should then discuss the finer details of the trial. Draco was silent on suggestions; he already had someone in mind.

Stepping out from his mothers residence, Draco finally reflected on what he had let slip about his new relationship. He smiled to himself; it definitely seemed to be going in a good direction. He paused at the entrance between Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, staring coldly back at the strangers who glanced suspiciously at him. Their attitude momentarily crushed his mood, but Draco refused to find a hidden booth and drink away his anger. So with a nod to Tom, he headed out into muggle London, glancing at his watch. Hermione would be home by now, and that immediately made him feel better.

The contrast to his cold greeting in wizarding London was vastly different to when he entered his building. The women smiled at him, the men on their arms nodding, and Draco felt a warmth he hadn't expected to feel, especially from muggles. Stepping into the elevator, Draco appparated.

"Hermione?" he called out, hanging up his robe, realizing he had left it on in front of the muggles. He had to be more careful.

"Draco!" Hermione came out from the hallway, her hair falling loose from the business appropriate ponytail from the morning. Smiling, she paused before him, and Draco eagerly pulled her forward.

They kissed and Draco smiled, thinking back to his realization. Hermione, meanwhile, wrapped her arms around him, pulling their bodies together. They kissed again, Draco reaching for her brown hair, pulling it free.

"Hi." Hermione breathed between kisses.

"Hi." Draco responded, his hands slinking down her back. Hermione shivered, and when he finally slipped his hands into her back pockets, she giggled and pulled away.

"What time is it?"

Draco glanced at his wrist, "5:33."

She bit her lip, and Draco glanced at her, "What is it?"

"Harry is going to be stopping by."

Draco nodded, "Oh, so that was what that greeting was for."

Hermione swatted his arm, "No!"

"Alright, how long is he going to be here? I have things I need to tell you."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, I want to hear how it went with your mother," She looked him up and down, "Though you still seem to be in one piece, so I'm still a secret."

Draco smiled, "Well…"

"Well?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, pulling him into the kitchen, "Hmm…Now I definitely want to hear about it. Harry won't be here long, I promise."

Pulling her into another kiss, Draco made it slow and sensual, flicking his tongue over her mouth, wrapping his arms around her. Hermione automatically leaned deeper into the kiss, only to leap back when a sound came from the common room. Glaring, but also grinning at Draco she shooed him down the hallway.

"Coming, Harry." And with a last grin at Draco, Hermione turned.

Smiling to himself, Draco went to his room, and changed out of his work clothes. Silently as possible, he crept to the bathroom, and left the door open a crack. As of yet, he hadn't heard any yelling.

"So you are sure?" Potter's voice asked.

Hermione didn't say anything, so she must have nodded.

"Alright. I'm glad. It will be fun. You can come with Ginny and I."

"Thank you, Harry. But we'll see."

There was a moment of silence, and Draco twirled Hermione's hairbrush, waiting.

"So, it is going to be Ginny's birthday soon. We were going to have a small party. Do you think you would be interested? You haven't seen Fred in awhile have you? He's walking now."

Draco leaned forward, waiting.

"Perhaps," Hermione said finally, "I will at least get her a gift."

"Alright." Draco could tell Harry had given up on that argument. There was sound of movement, then a burst of floo powder, and all was silent.

Draco looked up suddenly, as Hermione silently pushed the bathroom door open.

"What was that about?" Draco asked innocently.

Hermione walked around him and leaned against the counter, her head resting on Draco's shoulder, "Business mainly. The Ministry Holiday party is coming up, and the Minister wanted all three of us to be there… since I'm back now. Harry was simply relaying the message."

Draco had forgotten about that party, "That is in a month."

Hermione nodded.

"Oh!" Draco straightened, "My mother told me what the letter had said…"

Hermione looked at him, and Draco continued, "There are two months left where I can petition the Ministry for my inheritance. I'm going to do it."

Silently, Hermione leaned over and kissed him.

"And…" Draco smiled, kissing her back, "I want you to be my lawyer."

"Me?"

Draco smiled, "Yes, you. Why are you so surprised?"

Hermione swallowed, "Well, I mean…I am a lawyer…but I defend magical creatures…"

"Who need help fighting the injustice of our Ministry." Draco finished, "That's me Hermione."

Hermione was silent, and Draco took that as a good sign.

Finally she nodded, "Alright. There are many benefits to me as your lawyer. I do handle injustice cases, as you said, but also we are discussing the Death Eater Trials, which we were both present in."

"Not to mention you are part of the famous Trio, and that has tremendous pull."

Hermione glared at him, "I win my cases fair and square, thank you."

Grinning, Draco nudged her playfully, "You are also the sexiest lawyer ever."

Hermione bit her lip, but finally smiled.

Draco wrapped his arm around her, his voice serious, "And you are probably the only one who would want to reopen a case in defense of a Death Eater."

"You are not a Death Eater!"

"Tell that to everyone else, honey."

Hermione glanced at him, but relaxed at his smile.

"You realize this will make us very public? The media won't know what to do."

Draco nodded, "That's alright. I mean, it will be good publicity for both of us."

"Hopefully." Hermione whispered.

Taking his hand, she pulled Draco out of the bathroom, and they silently headed into the kitchen. With a wave of her wand Hermione set the teapot boiling.

"How will your mother handle this? Me being your lawyer…and wait, what does she know about me? You never said!"

Draco grinned, "Well, first, my mother will see the benefit of having a war hero as my lawyer…and hopefully it will be a way for you to slowly win her over."

Hermione poured the whistling tea pot into two mugs, and sitting at the table, slid one to him, "Meaning she doesn't know."

Draco blew on his tea, "Not exactly. She knows I am seeing someone…"

"The pant-less muggle girl?"

Draco grinned, "Yes. Though I believe she said it more eloquently."

"How kind."

"Oh, but she does know you are a witch."

Hermione raised her eyebrow, "Really?"

Draco nodded, "Yes. But she doesn't know you are my flatmate."

Hermione set down her mug, "That will be interesting. Not only am I your girlfriend, I am your flatmate, and now your lawyer."

Draco nodded slowly, staring at Hermione. Reaching across the table he took Hermione's hand, seeing the worry in her eyes.

"I…I just realized that it was rude of me to think you would not want to talk to Harry. I should have at least asked you."

Draco shook his head, "No, that's fine. Though the media would like it, I would prefer not to be murdered by the Chosen One."

Hermione glared at him, and Draco grinned.

"No, I was thinking, that if the media don't discover us, we could beat them to the punch."

Hermione glanced at him.

"If we are going to tell Potter, we might as well tell the whole world."

"Oh?" Hermione whispered, her eyes serious, and she gripped his hand tighter. Their tea was completely forgotten, and Draco took a deep breath.

"I was thinking I would accompany you to the Ministry Holiday Party."


	24. Of muggle food and plans made

Hermione pursed her lips, staring at him from across the kitchen table, "How did you know?", she said finally.

"What do you mean?"

"When Harry came over…he invited me to accompany him and Ginny to the Holiday Party."

Draco didn't see any point denying it, "And you said you'll see."

Hermione smiled slowly, "I knew you were listening."

Draco twisted her fingers into his own, waiting.

"And I admit my first thought was if you were going…and who with." Hermione admitted finally.

Draco held her eye, and Hermione swallowed.

Slipping her hand from his, she focused on her tea, and Draco watched her with a knowing smile. But inside he had let out a nervous breath.

"Oh, stop it." Hermione glared playfully at him.

Draco smiled, "Sorry, but you're cute."

She rolled her eyes, and with a wave of her wand brought over biscuits and jam, placing them on a napkin.

"Hermione," Draco stared at her, knowing she was avoiding eye contact, "You haven't answered me yet. I invited you, as my date, to the Ministry Holiday Party."

Taking a sip of tea, Hermione pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, "Well, I think today has been a success, for many reasons. Therefore I think we should celebrate."

Draco took a sip of tea, "Celebrate?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes. I say we go out to a restaurant, I'm sure you would be impressed with muggle cuisine."

"Alright." Draco glanced at his watch, "It's almost 6:30 now."

Hermione took another sip of tea, than stood, "Alright, go put on your navy suit… and the striped shirt. I will change too."

Grinning, Draco stood and put his tea in the sink, "Yes, mummy."

Hermione's hands came up behind him, wrapping around his torso, her body pressed against his teasingly. Draco leaned into her, capturing her hands in his own.

"Now, now…" Hermione laughed, pulling away, "I have to make a reservation. Go get dressed."

Fifteen minutes, Draco was dressed and waiting in the common room. Glancing at his watch, Draco turned to yell down the hallway, but was greeted with a mesmerizing sight. Hermione stood before him wearing a classic red dress that was purely sinful, yet, Draco admitted, classy and innocent. The cherry color accented her brown hair, the deep V neck was teasing, and the skirt twirled about her knees. Her black heels matched the black pea coat she held in her arms.

"Draco you're drooling."

Draco snapped out of his trance, and stepped towards his date, "Careful," he whispered in her ear, "I might not let you leave like that."

Hermione ran her hand through his hair, "I could say the same about you."

Grasping her head, he pulled her into a deep kiss. Her hand crept around and grabbed his ass, and she grinned into the kiss when Draco jumped.

Pulling away, Hermione laughed and pulled Draco out of their flat.

Once out of the elevator, Draco took Hermione's arm in his, and they nodded to the doorman before heading out into the darkening streets. Once outside Hermione giggled, and Draco laughed as well.

"So where are we going?" Draco asked finally.

"A restaurant called The Ivy."

Draco nodded, "And you say it is a muggle restaurant?"

"Yes, and I do think you will be impressed." Hermione answered, "Remember the clothing boutique? It's like that, very posh."

Draco grinned, "Are you going to abuse a poor worker again?"

Hermione tugged at his arm, "Only if they are female."

Draco glanced down at her, "I never took you for the jealous type."

Hermione grinned, looked up and down the street, "Not jealous. Merely, protective."

Glaring at his date, he allowed her to take his arm, and they disapperated. Finding himself in a strange building, full of muggle taxis, Draco was momentarily distracted. Hermione, however, seemed to know where they were, and led him down a flight of stairs back out into the street. Before them was a magnificent building, rather out of place in the crowded city street, and it was in fact covered in ivy.

"This is it." Hermione smiled, pulling him across, and she grinned as the doorman let them into the restaurant, which Draco realized was styled to look like a medieval castle.

Once inside, they were swept into a lavish entrance that was reminiscent of Malfoy Manor, save for the deep red carpet and ivory painted walls. Out of nowhere, men and women in matching outfits took their coats, led them to a private table, were offering wine, and brought them appetizers. Finally, after handing them "menus", they all disappeared. Hermione and Draco were left alone in what felt like a low ceiling ballroom full of other couples dining.

After an explanation from Hermione, Draco opened the "menu" and eventually found a meal that sounded interesting. A roast duck with mango chutney over a bed of greens and basmati rice. Hermione chose a risotto with a side of caramelized vegetables. Moments later another man appeared, took their order, and the menu's, and bowing, disappeared again.

"Now what?" Draco asked.

Hermione smiled over her glass of wine, "Now we wait for the food."

"They don't make it in front of you?"

Hermione smiled, but shook her head, "No, not here. But if you like, there are restaurants that do that. Mostly Asian cuisine."

Draco nodded slowly, wondering why people would want to go out and eat in a kitchen, even if other people made it for you.

Draco let out a breath of relief, and reached for his glass of wine.

Hermione straightened suddenly, and Draco recognized the look on her face: business, "You realize that since the Party is in a month, it gives us limited time for preparations for the trial. We will need to petition the Wizengamot immediately, I will need to inform my team, and we will need to meet with your mother and Gringotts as well, to discuss the finer details of your inheritance…"

Draco took a sip of the muggle wine, "Well, as long as the court date is set and the media have had their fill, then we do not need to have the trial before the party."

Hermione glanced at him, "You mean, we will announce our…relationship, before the trial?

"Well, unless it is possible to get a court date in less than a month that would be preferred. But I would rather not have that get in the way of our attending the Party together."

Hermione held his gaze, a look both serious and heartwarming, "You mean that you want to put…us before your trial?"

Draco nodded, setting down the stuffed mushroom he had been eating.

"I am tired of hiding, Hermione. And I think it will help convince society that I am not who I was ten years ago. I can only ever gain their acceptance if I go out in public without shame, and with you by my side, I think that's possible."

Hermione's eyes were passionate, but she snapped out of it as waiters appeared, and presented their food. Only when they left, did Hermione look back at him, "I…I feel the same."

She paused, and hastily pushed hair from her eyes, "I mean, I won't deny that going to the Party with you would not be for publicity, I think in that aspect we are both in the same mindset. It would certainly make a statement, and might even help the trial. But…"

"Hermione." Draco whispered.

"Sorry!" She whispered, blushing red, "But I think you are right and… I want to go with you too."

Reaching across the table, the witch and wizard grasped hands, the silence of the moment leaving room for the shared smile, and faint tint of a blush on each cheek.

Hermione took her hand away, brushing hair from her eyes again, "Let's eat. Because there is something I want to do afterwards."


End file.
